Have you ever thought of taking up writing for the sake of writing, maybe to express the ocean of feelings you feel about yourself and the world? But did you hold back because, well, you think that this is a crazy idea – how insane to think that I, who have no background in literature and no inkling of what writing entails, dare to think I can do something like that? Am I just being a charlatan? Will people I know ridicule me?
Replace writing with painting, pottery, dancing, photography, or any artistic pursuits you can think of, and the same nagging questions are likely to pop up. Unless you are already schooled in the arts or a practitioner of one, you may be daunted by the idea of informally practicing some form of art, viewing it as too silly, too preposterous, too risky. I hope the poems and thoughts presented in this post will change your mind – and your life.
BEGINNINGS
In the following poem, Kate Baer pronounces her determination to enjoy her life through a journey of self-discovery with all its attendant risks and blessings. Using straightforward language, she lays bare the experience growing old and the urgency of finding how to reclaim the self, hidden away for so long.
‘Idea’ by Kate Baer
I will enjoy this life. I will open it
like a peach in season, suck the juice
from every finger, run my tongue over
my chin. I will not worry about clichés
or uninvited guests peering in my windows.
I will love and be loved. Save and be saved
a thousand times. I will let the want into
my body, bless the heat under my skin.
My life, I will not waste it. I will enjoy this life.
RIGHT-SIZE YOUR LIFE
The world largely runs on the logic of science and commerce; the arts play second fiddle to most people’s lives. This imbalance is lamentable, just like work-life imbalance is lamentable, for every one of us has a soul that feels for a million things, and the need to express those feelings in constructive ways. The arts allow us to do that, and by so doing, elevates and completes us.
Here is a poem to encourage budding artists to take the first step, written by the Nobel-winning poet, Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)
‘Poetry’ by Pablo Neruda
“And something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and I suddenly saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open …”
MISGIVINGS
Should the poem that no one reads still be written? How about the painting that no one sees? Of course they should. Without any formal background in literature or art, I cobbled up the courage to write poems (and even got a few published!). I also took up painting and sculpture. An acrylic painting and a couple of calligraphy pieces I did now grace the walls of the living room.
The benefits of practicing art go far beyond monetary rewards; you do it because a voice inside you calls upon you. You respond, make a work or two, and watch the blessings pour out, sometimes despite your minimal efforts. It is this sense of gratuitous abundance that led me to pen the following poem, using the metaphor of a tree.
‘The Tree’ by Wallace Fong
If you want to know
what love is,
look at the great tree,
the one with branches
open in all directions,
holding the sky
without even trying.
Here’s a lovely video to reinforce the above message. Although it is addressed to professional artists, I think the message applies more broadly.
THE CUP RUNNETH OVER
Would you believe me if I tell you there is an “invisible hand” that will guide you once you commit to a life of exploring the arts? This invisible hand is like an angel sent to open doors to people, things and experiences you’d thought you would never encounter, but which will multiply the pleasure of your artistic journey.
Allow me share my own experience as an art collector to make my point. I’ve always harbored the thought of building an art collection of some quality, but for years many other things got in the way – work mainly, but also family commitments and of course finances. So, when my children got married and left the house, I considered early retirement so I could, in the words of the poet, Pablo Neruda, “recover all the forces of my youth.” And I did. After working as an applied math professor for 33 years, I called it quits in 2018 to devote my life to reclaim what I have missed. I took up painting and sculpting. I wrote poetry. I started this blog. And more recently, I started collecting ceramic artworks from Japan, whose culture and traditions I have long admired. I was daunted at first in trying to build a collection, partly because I know I’m a bit of a perfectionist and only museum-quality pieces will do, and I only have a fairly modest budget to work with. Anyway, risking everything, I took the plunge, got started and poured myself into building a collection. In early 2024, I bought my first ceramic (a tea bowl). Then I bought my second piece a month later, and a third and a fourth …. The more I searched on the internet, the more doors opened. To my surprise, there were “treasures” everywhere and some (though not all) were inexpensive. Indeed, I managed to find magnificent works by highly accomplished artists at prices I though were impossible (these pieces were acquired mainly via online auctions). Along the way, I read the relevant literature voraciously and gained a certain level of fluency in the language of Japanese ceramic art. To cut the story short, in two years, my collection ballooned to over 200 works, every piece made by hand and one-of-a-kind. My house was overflowing with these objects and only a portion of them could be displayed in the open at any one time. One day, it occurred to me that I should not keep these works only to myself or a few friends, and that the world should get to know them. So I sprang into action, photographed each item carefully, wrote captions to describe each work and showcased them on a website – www.momc-sg – in case you’re interested. In a nutshell, I felt that an invisible hand has been guiding me in my encounter with this art form. It has opened one door after another and given me a sense of abundance I never knew existed. More importantly, I believe my experience is not unique. In fact, the celebrated polymath, Julia Cameron wrote about the same thing in her wonderful book, The Artist’s Way. Here’s a patchwork of quotes from the book:
“A woman admits to a buried dream of acting. At dinner the next night, she sits beside a man who teaches beginning actors. A writer acknowledges a dream to go to film school. A single exploratory phone call puts him in touch with a professor who knows and admires his work and promises him that the last available slot is now his.
“Incidents like those above happen to us, and yet we dismiss them as sheer coincidence. Is it any wonder we discount answered prayers? We call it coincidence. We call it luck. We call it anything but what it is – the hand of God, or good, activated by our own hand when we act in behalf of our truest dreams, when we commit to our own soul.
[The truth is] when we answer that call, when we commit to it, we set in motion the principle that C.G. Jung dubbed synchronicity, loosely defined as a fortuitous meshing of events. Back in the sixties, we called it serendipity. Whatever you choose to call it, once you begin your creative recovery you may be startled to find it cropping up everywhere.”
BLESSED ARE THEY WHO SHARE
To receive is a blessing, but so is giving or sharing. I apply this to the arts that I practice: prose, poetry, blog writings and art (as mentioned, mostly from the standpoint of a collector). These activities take up time and quite a bit of work, but it is truly a labor of love, no question. That is why I share, through a blog like this as well as through Instagram, Facebook and my website. The following poem succinctly summarizes that joyful feeling of sharing.
‘Summer Solstice’ by Jenny Zhang
Summer solstice
will be significant
im going to release something
soft and radiant
and true
into the world
CLOSING THOUGHTS
We are here only once, and yet there is enough time to make our lives count in a hundred meaningful ways. The arts are of course not the only way, but few can match its immediacy and gifts of beauty and astonishments.
“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to astonishment.”
~ Mary Oliver, “When Death Comes”