Creative Duet: Kahlil Gibran

“All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.”  ~ Kahlil Gibran

the-prophetAnd what an incredibly rich feast lay in the mind of this poet/philosopher/artist!

Best loved for The Prophet ~ (considered his greatest achievement, translated in more than 20 languages, and of real note, has never been out of print since its first publication in 1923) ~ Kahlil Gibran’s essays, parables and poems are some of the most inspirational and cherished works ever written.

Rarely has one individual written consistently with the depth, sensitivity, and mysticism of Gibran. He has literally touched millions of hearts with extraordinarily beautiful – yet very accessible – prose. His words rise from the soul, easily intermingling divinity and humanity. His wisdom is truly timeless.

Gibran’s path started early; his gifts publicly recognized while still in his teens. But that recognition was not for his writings. First, he was an artist …

Around the age of 15 his drawings were published on book covers, and by 21 his works were being exhibited in Boston galleries. A few years later, he was in Paris, studying with Auguste Rodin.

gibran_art2

I find this really fascinating in light of the fact that Gibran’s youth (in Lebanon) was one of poverty, with no formal education – and that after emigrating to the U.S. in 1895, his mother raised the family alone by peddling lace and linens.

So how did his opportunity change so profoundly?  He went to public school ~ nothing special there. The key seems to be that at the same time he also went to a local art school, where his artwork caught the eye of his teachers. A couple of those teachers had significant associations within the Boston community, and were compelled to open some fateful, well-connected doors for the young Gibran that inevitably lead to his success.

The simple fact that he arrived in this country at the age of 12 and was already making an artistic imprint during his teen years, speaks volumes about his remarkable abilities. And I’m one of countless who are no doubt grateful for the teachers who perceived greatness in their midst and opened those doors.

Gibran was one of the world’s most brilliant minds. Though known today for his writings, his talents manifested with equal eloquence and exquisiteness in both the visual and verbal realms ~ with expressions that will continue, indefinitely, to uplift, guide and reach the innermost spaces of people’s hearts.

gibran_art1

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“His power came from some great reservoir of spiritual life else it could not have been so universal and so potent, but the majesty and beauty of the language with which he clothed it were all his own.”  ~ Claude Bragdon

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Kahlil Gibran was born on January 6, 1883 in Lebanon (then a Turkish province of Syria). He died on April 10, 1931, in New York City. If you’re interested in learning more, resources about his life abound – and if by chance you haven’t read his works, particularly “The Prophet”, I urge you to do so!

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A Plethora of P's / #18: Pizzazz

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

Sure, sometimes we just need a nap.

But … sometimes what we really need to do to recharge is to add a little pizzazz; a little flair. A pep to your step, some get-up-and-go spirit. A dash of red, a splash of purple, a pinch of pink, a lime-green wink. A great big bunch of wildflowers set on the table, a beaming smile when you feel a frown.

Put some strut in your salad, some punch in your pasta, panache on your pizza. Break out of the mold for an hour, a day, a year…

Let some sparkle light your world, welcome splatterings of zing and zeal and zest amongst your thoughts. Work the muscle in your attitude. Dance in your kitchen. Use new words. Paint with different colors.

A touch of pizzazz is feel-good stuff. So, go ahead and surprise yourself. Go ahead and shine.

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Creative Duet: E.E. Cummings

© e.e.cummings / self-portrait

“Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable. In so far as every child and woman and man may be immeasurable, art is the mystery of every man and woman and child. In so far as a human being is an artist, skies and mountains and oceans and thunderbolts and butterflies are immeasurable; and art is every mystery of nature.”

from E. E. Cummings, A Miscellany Revised Edited by George Firmage. New York: October House, 1965.

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While I’d never been a huge fan of E.E. Cummings, I adore the above quote. And he certainly earned a great deal of respect and recognition for his inventive poetry. He became, and remains, a household name in literature.

My admiration for his work has grown though, as I recently studied him a little more ~ and learned that he was also a painter. Judging by this self-portrait (and the two at the bottom of this essay), quite a good one, too.

Suddenly my view was broadened. He was no longer the writer of oddly punctuated poetic snippets we were relentlessly fed in school. He was more. He had true depth, and multiple means of expression. I’m newly impressed.

In this great little piece below, E.E. Cummings connects his painting with his poetry. An imaginary interview, it’s part wisdom, part amusement. Enjoy ~

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Why do you paint?

For exactly the same reason I breathe.

That’s not an answer.

There isn’t any answer.

How long hasn’t there been any answer?

As long as I can remember.

And how long have you written?

As long as I can remember.
I mean poetry.

So do I.

Tell me, doesn’t your painting interfere with your writing?

Quite the contrary: they love each other dearly.

They’re very different.

Very: one is painting and one is writing.

But your poems are rather hard to understand, whereas your paintings are so easy.

Easy?

Of course–you paint flowers and girls and sunsets; things that everybody understands.

I never met him.

Who?

Everybody.

Did you ever hear of nonrepresentational painting?

I am.

Pardon me?

I am a painter, and painting is nonrepresentational.

Not all painting.

No: housepainting is representational.

And what does a housepainter represent?

Ten dollars an hour.

In other words, you don’t want to be serious–

It takes two to be serious.

Well let me see…oh yes, one more question: where will you live after this war is over?

In China; as usual.

China?
 Of course.

Wherabouts in China?

Where a painter is a poet.

from E. E. Cummings, A Miscellany Revised. Edited by George Firmage, New York: October House, 1965.

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© e.e.cummings / marion morehouse cummings in profile

© e.e. cummings / nasturtiums and marigolds


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A Plethora of P's / #17: "Preparation"

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

Well before a harvest, you’ve got to tend the garden. Before tending, you’ve got to sow the seeds. Before sowing the seeds, you’ve got to prepare the soil.

Anything we want to grow ~ a business, a home, a lifestyle, an idea, a dream; heck, even a good day! ~ involves cultivating the soil. Yes, there’s the physical work. But first, before an ounce of physical effort, long before toiling under a hot sun, is the preparation that goes on in the garden of our mind.

To create the best environment for seeds to take root, it’s best to clear the space, remove debris, turn over our mental soil (our thoughts) and fertilize with nourishing attitudes.

Good preparation, you see, makes all the difference in yielding a fine crop.

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Creative Duets & Human Nature

The human mind is a minefield of creativity and brilliance.

A couple years ago, inspired by Donald Friedman’s acclaimed book “The Writer’s Brush: Paintings, Drawings, and Sculpture by Writers”, I began to look more at artists who write and writers who draw and/or paint ~ creative people who are known for excellence in one art form, but also have credibility in another. Sometimes the second is overshadowed, or completely overlooked, due to the prominence of the first, but it’s interesting to see dual talents exposed.

"Palm of Creativity" / © Patricia Saxton

I love the topic. But it got my thoughts bubbling. …  As I see it, there have always been artists who cross mediums. Artists who write, writers who dance, dancers who sing, singers who paint, poets who play the saxophone.

It’s as if all these outlets arise from one great vat of creative expression.

So it makes sense to me that individual creativity, more often than not, spills from one medium over into another. It’s probably far less common to find a musician without a drop of interest for painting, or an artist with no stirrings of choreography running through their mind.

At the same time, it seems to be human nature to categorize or label: He’s a writer. She’s a dancer. He’s an artist. She’s a pianist. Just the way someone is a carpenter, or a doctor, or an accountant.

Yet none of us are one-dimensional. We arrive packaged with multi-faceted interests, talents, skills, propensities. I never understood why some feel the need to box people in to one “thing” or another, to say they “are this” or they “are that”. But to answer my own question, I suppose it helps frame the individual, helps us see them in some logical way.

In reality it isn’t always logical. There may well be strong leanings – creatively, mechanically, scientifically, etc. But there are also lawyers who paint, writers who fix cars and accountants who sculpt.

It starts early. There are “good kids” and troublemakers. Cheerleaders and jocks, geeks, nerds and rebels. Later your career choice defines you. Or your mate’s career choice. Or your kid’s career choice. There’s some real pigeon-holing that goes on. But we are all so much more!

We’re all fascinating, creative beings – whether writing, painting, solving crimes or tending the sick, cooking, singing, crunching numbers, building engines or raising livestock.

Sure, it’s flattering, that someone who writes and paints and draws is considered somehow unique. But I don’t agree that it’s so unusual ~ I believe that every single one of us has gifts that overlap. Maybe they’re not as easily defined, or maybe just not as romanticized, but they’re there ~ awesome, mysterious and immeasurable.

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Stephen Wiltshire: Pure Genius

You may have heard of Stephen Wiltshire; he’s a London based artist renowned for his masterfully detailed drawings of cityscapes.

Stephen Wiltshire is autistic. He didn’t speak one word until he was 5 years old. His mind, however, is pure genius. His “disability”, as so often is the case, has provided an amazing gift.

Thanks to my friend Jai for sharing this with me… now it’s my pleasure to share it with you. If you view the video, I pretty much guarantee you’ll be awed.

For more on Stephen, his journey and incredible talent, go to: The Stephen Wiltshire Gallery.

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A Plethora of P's / #16: "Poetry"

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

Whitman, Yeats, Kipling, Dickinson, Angelou, Gibran, Frost, Sandberg, Tolstoy, Cummings, Wilde, Shelley, Rumi, Shakespeare, Wordsworth….

When I hear these names, eloquence comes to mind.

Eloquence, combined with deep understandings of nature, love, and the human condition; poets have a profound ability to both explain and move our hearts.

Granted, I may be biased towards poetry. I’m a poet’s daughter, spoon-fed the deliciousness of words. From an early age I came to appreciate the beauty ~ and the power ~ of language.

So, bias aside, I realize that not everyone appreciates poetry. But I do think that everyone who does, experiences an expansion of heart and mind. Good poetry is arresting. It’s elevating. Some even say intoxicating. Like being dipped inside a rose, the senses enveloped.

It’s also demanding. It requires your attention. Using only words, poetry engages first the mind, then cuts through to the heart.

And though wrapped in prose, it’s probably the most directly communicative of the arts. In its purity, perhaps the most artistically vulnerable. No visual props, no chords to set a tone. A play of words forming emotional shapes, it’s a meeting of pen, mind and spirit; music and painting put to words.

Poetry has many faces, runs the gamut from simple to complex, lyrical to abrupt. Like song, it’s often a matter of taste. But it’s worth a savoring, magical, thought-provoking, reverent taste now and then. It’s the language of love. It’s the language of life, of loss, of longing and lifting up. It nourishes the mind; it’s a tonic for the soul.

A man should hear a little musicread a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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A Plethora of P's / #15: "Plaid"

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

Once again, the positive P-word I’d planned for this week was preempted by a sudden inspiration. This one thanks to an old college friend who unwittingly mentioned that it’s National Tartan Week!

Scotland runs thick in my blood; the plaid used for this “P” is, in fact, from my maternal family line, the MacNaughton clan. Something I’m rather proud of.

And what’s the positive message? I’ll tell you this ~ it’s not the wearing of plaid pants, plaid skirts, or men in kilts. It’s not about saving a penny, or drinking Scotch Whiskey (although both notions have their place). It’s not about the uniquely moving sound of a well-played bagpipe. And it’s definitely, most definitely, not about haggis.

It’s about being proud of who you are and where you come from. It’s about appreciating those who came before you, and it’s about confidently showing your colors, inside and out.

So this one’s dedicated to all of us with Scottish ancestry ~ but meant for everyone. Honor the stepping stones of history, respect your heritage, and let the best of who you’ve become shine like a bold plaid.

“Be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead.” ~  Scottish proverb

(All P words to date are shown under the “A Plethora of P’s” menu item to the left)


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Lessons from Daffodils

It snowed last night. We’d all hoped it wouldn’t, and that spring might have been here to stay. It’s March though, so not a huge surprise.

But what about the daffodils? They were almost full grown, and while I knew they’d “weather the storm”, I still felt kinda sorry for them.

And in the same breath, I felt admiration. They’ve got looks, delicacy and toughness all wrapped up. We could learn a lesson or two from the daffodil.

Maybe it would be to rest in winter, allowing our roots to replenish.  And after the cold weary days have dragged on… and on …, be the first to send out hope, defiantly and boldly sprouting up in February’s first light.

And maybe then, ignoring naysayers who suggest “it’s too soon, nobody else is growing yet”, or “don’t you know something bad could happen?”, or “silly daffodil, such a dreamer” … we stand by our conviction. We encourage others. We grow taller. We bask with confidence.

And when the inevitable happens ~ (but is it inevitable? they say it is, so it must be) ~ when the inevitable bad thing showers down upon us (the one we were warned about) ~ we cover our heads, huddle together, look inward and brave it out, the strength from our nourished roots holding us tight. Knowing this will pass. Knowing we’ll stand again, straight and tall. And knowing, that bending in the breeze, we’ll bloom, and share our blossoms with all who pass by.

Some may never notice our brilliance ~ (and we all have some) ~ but a few will notice, and will be the better for it. Perhaps that’s all we can ask for, and perhaps that’s good enough.

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A Plethora of P's / #12: "Prayer"

I had another “P” word ready for this week, but sometimes plans change. Things out of our control send us in another direction.

We’ve all been watching, living in, or at least are aware of what seems a world gone mad. It’s as though strife and wars and natural disasters have gone into warp speed. If you focus on it, it’s a bit terrifying. But we also have distractions… our lives to live, kids’ lunches to pack, dogs to walk, clothes to wash, deadlines that still need meeting … and while places like the Middle East and Japan and Haiti may visit our homes via satellite, it’s impossible, and not particularly useful, to remain in suspended disillusionment and grief.

At the same time, it’s kind of hard to write about say, typefaces, when you know that an hour north people’s homes are flooded, and an ocean away people are fighting for their lives.

And I can sit here and feel bad that there’s nothing I can do for those in need, a world away, facing unbelievable hardships. Maybe even feel guilty that I’ve just enjoyed a healthy meal and know that I’ll sleep in my own bed tonight. I can think that whatever I’m doing, even in writing this, is completely meaningless in light of catastrophic events. But these thoughts … don’t serve a purpose either.

I’m not a doctor or a diplomat, a scientist or a farmer. I don’t have wealth to send to those in need. But I can acknowledge. I can care. I can send up prayer.

I’ve never doubted that a higher power existed. I see and feel evidence of spirit everyday; not always in ways that can be described in factual detail…. and I suppose that has something to do with “faith”. Sometimes it’s a leap, and sometimes a simple step, a shift in thought. But 2 things are clear to me: prayer can be very powerful, and the world we live in sure needs a big dose.

I  wouldn’t pretend to prescribe how to pray, or to whom or what… but I feel that it can be a wish, a thought or an all out religious cantation. It can be drumming, chanting, song, dance. It can be meditation, or painting. However it occurs, and for however long (or briefly) it lasts, you feel it in your bones; your heart expands. At its most effective, it penetrates time and the mundane and becomes a state of consciousness in which you connect to divine energy… and there lies its power ~ accessible, I personally believe, to all who are willing to go there with good intentions.

Prayer is love, wrapped in hope; hope wrapped in love. It works in mysterious ways, and while it needn’t be reserved “for emergency only”, there are a lot of devastated people in the world right now in need of our prayers.

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