"When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everyone will respect you."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/31/2011
"When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everyone will respect you."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Friday, December 30, 2011
"PHENOMENAL"
A post-Christmas drive took us down to San Diego, to visit the Museum of Contemporary Art for an exhibition in the Pacific Standard Time series, Phenomenal: California Light, Space, Surface installed at both the downtown gallery and the original MCASD space in La Jolla. A big enthusiast for this great period in the history of California art, I had been planning to get down there for some time, but had been postponing the trip for a variety of reasons. It proved worth the drive.
Before heading for the museums, though, we made a stop at Ellie’s sister, Susie’s house in the heart of San Diego, just to deliver our holiday greetings in person and wish her well for the coming year. Susie is an ardent and knowledgeable fan of “mid-century” architecture and interior design, and has a great eye for quality when it comes aesthetic choices. Her present abode is filled with delightful objects—art works, pottery, textiles…—that make it a real pleasure to visit. It’s a hobby, a lifestyle, a passion that obviously brings joy into her life and helps her to create an environment that manages to be at once spare and rich in meticulously chosen detail. Good for her, in a world where so much is hasty and utilitarian, to devote herself to simple elegance and beauty.
As I've said, I’m a sucker when it comes to California Light/Space art. I arrived in California in 1968, when the movement was still at its height. (I tend to see it as a logical historical development both from the impressionistic “plein air” tradition of the early years of the 20th century; and of the hard edge color abstraction of the forties and fifties.) At the time, I had little exposure to the work of contemporary artists, and this work intrigued me particularly because it had avowedly to do with the phenomenology of perception—how the mind/eye perceives the world about it, how this phenomenon itself can be brought into service as a medium for the artist, and how our perception can in turn be changed and enriched by the artist’s vision. I came to California as a poet; this art did not ask me to bring my intellectual, verbal self to “understand” it; it offered itself instead to my openness to the experience of the moment.
Larry Bell, untitled, ca. 1970, Inconel coated glass in 5 panels. Courtesy of the artist and the Hendrickson Family Collection. © Larry Bell. Photo by Philipp Scholz Rittermann.
I have to say, the show in the downtown galleries left me initially disappointed. I brought those high expectations with me and the work seemed somehow tired, not the sparkling display of vibrant light and energy I was looking for. Perhaps it was the installation: the lighting was low, and seemed dull to me. I found myself agreeing with Ellie’s assessment: “old chestnuts”—not exactly what you’d want to be saying about California Light and Space. Even the sheer, perfectionist beauty of some of the work...
Doug Wheeler, DW 68 VEN MCASD 11, 1968/2011, white UV neon light. Courtesy of the artist. Photo: Philipp Scholz Rittermann.
... seemed a bit jaded, no longer quite so exciting to the senses as it once had been. (Actually, they look pretty brilliant in these images!) But I did find that excitement in an unrelated gallery, the one devoted to a huge installation by Jennifer Steinkamp, a digitally- generated heir to Light and Space, where layered, constantly moving images of flowers and blossoming trees evoked the random, ceaseless motion of the subatomic world writ large, expanded to the scale of three aircraft-hanger sized walls, as visually intriguing as they were awe-inspiring in their beauty and their shifting patterns of relationship.
The La Jolla galleries devoted to “Phenomenal” did much to restore my disappointed love. Several of the artists seemed to shine. What a pleasure to see Helen Pashgian stand out so well, with several stunning works in cast polyester resin—particularly a group of three small spheres...
Helen Pashgian, Installation view of three untitled works, 1968-69, Courtesy of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, Museum purchase, International and Contemporary Collectors Funds; Pomona College Museum of Art, Claremont, California; Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena California, Gift of the artist. Photo by Pablo Mason. .... affording a long view through their gleaming irises; and a couple of fine, illusory two-dimensional “paintings” in the same translucent material. And I have more than a soft spot for the mysterious, high-polished, monochromatic planks and other geometric forms by the late John McCracken...
John McCracken, Blue Block in Three Parts, 1966. Lacquer, polyester resin, fiberglass, plywood. Collection Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, Museum purchase with funds from Ansley I. Graham Trust, Los Angeles. (c) The Estate of John McCracken. Courtesy David Zwirner, New York. Photo by Philipp Scholz Ritterman.... they remind me of the monolith at the start of Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey"—presences that seem to have arrived, unexplained and inexpicable, from outer space.
Bruce Nauman, Green Light Corridor, 1970, painted wallboard and fluorescent light fixtures with green lamps, dimensions variable. Collection Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York. Panza Collection, Gift, 1992. Photo by Pablo Mason. (c) 2011 Bruce Nauman / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.
Then there’s the long, narrow, neon green corridor installation by Bruce Nauman...
Bruce Nauman, Green Light Corridor, 1970, painted wallboard and fluorescent light fixtures with green lamps, dimensions variable. Collection Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York. Panza Collection, Gift, 1992. Photo by Pablo Mason. (c) 2011 Bruce Nauman / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.
....which you can navigate only sideways, at snail’s pace, through eerie green light; when you emerge at the far end, everything is suddenly violet, slowly changing into pink. And you find yourself released into a gallery with a Robert Irwin work, installed long ago, in which the artist simply removed certain geometric sections from the slightly tinted windows, looking out over the deep blue Pacific Ocean, creating in each case a “hole in space” that reminds us how often we fail to see clearly, because we do not pay attention unless invited or compelled to do so.
And finally, the wondrous black hole created by the late Eric Orr—a room so dark that it seems, as you feel your way in from the entry, completely devoid of light. Once inside, you stand in total darkness, never imagining it to be penetrable in any way. Stand there for three or four minutes, though, and the eyes, amazingly, adjust. The silhouettes of other visitors start to emerge, black against the barely detectable glow of light, coming from you know not where. A few minutes more, and you begin to be able to see detail, soon quite clearly, as the darkness recedes. It’s an amazing, slightly dizzying experience, and one that works on the mind in somewhat the same way as the anechoic chamber works with sound—or the absence thereof. You watch yourself becoming aware.
All in all, "Phenomenal" is an ambitious show, and a welcome resurrection of a piece of the unique history of art in this part of the world—an area so singularly blessed with natural sunlight that it inspires its artists to investigate that property in their work; and seemingly so receptive to creative freedom that they readily dispense with convention and received ideas about what art should or should not be. It becomes whatever the human mind is capable of perceiving and experiencing with delight, whatever expands our vision and potential. Which makes it a special privilege to live and work in Southern California.
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/30/2011
"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/30/2011
"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/29/2011
"Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/29/2011
"Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
"PATIENCE": A BOOK REVIEW
I have just finished reading Patience: The Art of Peaceful Living, by Allan Lokos, the founder and guiding teacher of the Community Meditation Center in New York City. It’s a timely read for a season in which the stresses seem to multiply in direct proportion to the peace and joy we’re supposed to be feeling—and too often don’t!
In many ways, the book is a very readable course in Buddhism 101, a primer in Buddhist thought and practice for those who will value the introduction; it is also an important refresher course for those of us who have been practicing for a while—and who recognize that it’s still, and always, about “beginner’s mind.” Patience is at the very heart of Buddhist practice: without it the noble Eightfold Path would be impracticable for even the most ardent of its followers. A wise and, yes, patient guide, Lokos leads his readers through the benefits of patience with, first, ourselves and then with others in our personal and professional relationships. He offers the inspiration of notable exemplars, and includes not only the words of wisdom of great teachers in the Buddhist tradition, but also simple, do-able exercises and practices to help us along the way.
Patience is not an easy virtue, particularly in today’s world where we rush about our daily lives and readily succumb to the siren call of multi-tasking—at the cost of our peace of mind and happiness. I observe the suffering I create for myself when the traffic backs up on the freeway, when my computer fails to perform in conformance to my expectations or needs, when those around me make demands on my time and energies that I am reluctant to share. I watch the feelings of anger and frustration that arise when I don’t get what I want exactly when I want it. (Lokos includes appendices with useful lists of keywords to identify those fleeting feelings and other sources of stress; being mindful of them is helpful way to avoid the reactive patterns that contribute to our suffering without our knowing it.) When spoken in impatience, my words not only cause others to suffer, they do nothing to alleviate my own. Impatience takes a heavy toll, on my body, too, manifesting in the form of headaches or belly aches, fatigue, and general physical discomfort.
“Patience” is a thoughtful and always interesting book, and one that engages our attention. It challenges many of the assumptions and misconceptions we have about ourselves and the world we live in, reminding us that there is always another side to every view. It invites us to do the hard work of continuous mindfulness, and offers us the means to find release from self-inflicted (and other-inflicted) pain. As its subtitle and its final chapter suggest, “peaceful living” is indeed an “art” that can be learned through mindful practice—a valuable lesson to all who seek surcease from the stress we bring, often unconsciously, upon ourselves. As the Beatles sang, memorably, many years ago, “we all want to change the world.” “Patience” would be a terrific place to start--not to mention an excellent New Year's resolution!
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/28/2011
"When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/28/2011
"When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/27/2011
"A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/27/2011
"A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
CHRISTMAS... AND BOXING DAY!
It has been, for The Buddha Diaries, a long silence. Time to catch up on an amazing week that culminated, yesterday, in a disaster. But let's start with the good part...
It was the "holiday season," as those of us who wage a joyfully vindictive war on Christmas like to call it. (I actually have nothing against Christmas per se, but I do have it in for what has come to be the yearly celebration of crass commercialism in the name of religion; and the abandonment of virtually every value that religion espouses in favor of the acquisition of "stuff." But let's not get into that.) Our daughter, Sarah, arrived last Wednesday with her now seven-week-old son, Luka...
who brought with him nothing but joy and wonder at the miracle of new human life.
Ellie and I spent a good part of the week in preparation for his arrival, and for the large number of guests we expected to join us for dinner on Christmas Eve. There was plenty of food shopping to be done--on numerous expeditions because, of course, something was always forgotten or something new was needed. There were what seemed like hours of chopping and dicing: I am the sous chef, Ellie the menu preparer and the main chef. We made casseroles and salads, soups and stuffed peppers, cakes and muffins... food for an army: Ellie does not like the prospect of running short or anyone going hungry. In between times, we entertained our grandson...
... while his mom enjoyed the luxury of some quiet moments for herself, and took long walks with the baby in the stroller. He also went downtown with us to do some last-minute gift shopping and a visit with Santa...
I found him a fine Laguna Beach baseball cap...
Our Christmas Eve dinner was a great success. Sarah's friend Azalia and her sister Jan arrived in the early afternoon, followed shortly by Ed, Luka's dad, fresh from work; and soon thereafter by Ed's brother, Stan, and his girlfriend, Kelly...
... and finally Stan Hudecek senior...
We drank our traditional family toast in the champagne that Ed had brought with him, remembering not only those close at Christmas, but also those in more distant parts of the world, from Iowa to England and the Czech Republic, where Stan senior was born and where his family still live. And sat down for the feast at our Christmas table...
Much merriment at the table, along with the appreciation for the excellent--and, in honor of our daughter preferences, exclusively vegetarian--fare. With many of our guests leaving after dinner, the rest of us settled down to a game of team Scrabble, in which Ellie and I gloriously--and decisively--defeated the Hudecek brothers and their mates.
Christmas Day, Ellie and George and I were up at our usual early hour, abducting our grandson for a walk...
... down to the cafe near the beach where we often go for breakfast. We sat with a cup of coffee and a muffin in the beautiful, warm sunshine, thinking that life could not get much better than this. Then back home for our traditional brunch with, this year, the substitution of buckwheat pancakes for our usual English scrambled eggs, along with lox and bagels and a mixed fruit salad. No one, again, went hungry. Not even George...
After brunch we did the Christmas stocking bit--usually an early morning event, but postponed beyond its normal time in honor of Ed, who is a night person, and rarely puts in an appearance before noon! When Sarah was no more than a tot, one of the graduate students I worked with made her this enormous Christmas stocking...
... which has proven quite a challenge, in succeeding years, for Santa to fill. Somehow he manages each year, and our now not so little daughter still delights in the ritual...
... as do her parents. Many wonderful gifts, then, all around, and much pleasure in the spirit of generosity with which they had been found, wrapped, and given.
I had discovered earlier that there was to be an unusually low low tide at four in the afternoon, so we headed down to the park around the Montage hotel for a walk on the beach. We were surprised by the traffic and the crowds, and had a hard time finding a parking spot; but soon headed down the path in front of the hotel and transferred Luka from his stroller to a sling carrier before crossing the beach to the water's edge.
A glorious late afternoon, with the sun heading down to the horizon over Catalina Island, reflecting pearlescent colors in the breaking waves as they reached the shore...
Out beyond the breakers, to our delight, a school of dolphins leapt and played, while cormorants and pelicans dive-bombed for fish in the fading light. It was all almost too beautiful to be true--a superb ending to one of the most wonderful holidays in memory.
Sarah and Ed and Luka left for Los Angeles later in the evening, and Ellie and I were looking forward to a day of rest and relaxation Monday. Alas... (Now for the bad part!)
I had noticed, Sunday evening, a suspicious little puddle gathering around the clean-out valve for the drain that leads from our cottage to the city mains, and called in the morning to arrange for the plumber to come later in the week and do the semi-annual roto-rootering necessitated by the insistent growth of our neighbor's tree roots. We had decided to postpone our scheduled visit by a month--a decision that was to prove foolhardy this Boxing Day. With some chairs to return to their place in the basement storage area, I opened the door to Ellie's studio under the cottage and was greeted with a foul stink and hideous mess: the raw sewage had backed up from the drain and exploded through sink, flooding the studio and soaking books and sketch pads along with everything else in reach.
The plumber graciously responded to an emergency call and arrived to clear the drain. But the mess that remained behind him required hours of painstaking clean-up—not to mention the loan of a neighbor’s industrial power fan to help air out the space and drive out the stench.
What kind of karma was this, we wondered, following so close on our week of love and generosity? No doubt, in retrospect, it will seem a lot funnier than it seemed yesterday. And I guess it will make for a good story. Still, no way to spend a Boxing Day…
Monday, December 26, 2011
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/26/2011
"Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power. If you realize that you have enough, you are truly rich."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/26/2011
"Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power. If you realize that you have enough, you are truly rich."
~Lao Tzu
~Lao Tzu
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/25/2011
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."
~Lao Tzu
Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 12/25/2011
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."
~Lao Tzu
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