A Balanced Form of Self-Love

The Eloquence of Dreaming - Mixed Media - Image c Lynda Lehmann

Producing art gives us power. I see it as a power over ourselves, over our energy, perception, motivational systems. And perhaps most important, I view it as a supplanting of our need to achieve a social equilibrium (which in my mind is never really possible anyway), by a need to achieve harmony with ourselves in relation to the universe. 
The truth wear six billion faces, and each has different life circumstances, a different life script, if you will, and a different mode of being. For me, doing art takes me to a place from which I can accept all scripts and embrace the subjective and relative nature of truth. Because my own script is to me so engaging, at times enthralling, and always varied and full of mystery, it teaches me both tolerance and hope. It gives me confidence in the infinite potential of the universe, for hope, harmony, and healing. In short, it gives me joy. 
 I've heard it said that artists, in doing art, are participating in a God-like Creation process, and indeed it is true. While we are by no means transmuted into gods by the creative process, we at least become His humble hand-maidens. We see glimpses of beauty and wonder in places where other people may fail to look, unearthing it at every turn. We see new relationships, both visual and metaphoric, sociological and scientific. And this is our reward for moving away from the more petty power struggles that so often escalate into real and dangerous conflicts around the globe. 
I've heard it said, also, that we artists make art in order to find love and to be loved. I think the apex of this is that in the tender connections we make to the universe, we find some degree of self-love. I think this is a balanced form of self-love that perceives the relative and tenuous nature of things, including the subjective nature of our own lives. Therefore, in my opinion, it is a mature self-love, not to be confused with narcissism.

Note: You can click on each photo to see a larger version. All images and text on this blog are copyrighted material, and may be used only with written permission, except where syndication rights have been granted. All other rights reserved. Please visit my sites listed in my sidebar if you would like to see my paintings and more of my photography and digital art, or make a purchase.

The Fabric of Earth

The Fabric of Earth - c Lynda Lehmann


This is an old photo I took years ago when flying home from Arizona, where I'd had an extended visit with my family.  It's not a great photo. I shot it with a digital point-and-shoot that probably captured less than 5 mega pixels.  So it's grainy, as well as having been shot through the airplane window.  The funny thing is that when I found this image while cleaning out some Photoshop files tonight, I remembered that very moment when I glanced out the plane window and saw this spectacular view of mountain ridges (which I presume were the Rockies).  I had that wonderful impulse of Joy, expressed by a quiet "Wow!" that we all get from time to time when we see something awesome and beautiful.  We have a sense of its largess and significance, although we might not be able to define why.

It seems that somehow, taking photos not only reminds me of a given moment in time, but that I can also, often remember my state of mind, even that very moment of Consciousness, that fleeting minute during which I was treated to a glimpse of something Profound.  I knew I was seeing something important, because it gave me pause, not only to feel a sense of joy, but to contemplate the Wonder of the Universe, the Wonder of Being.  And so I must conclude that taking photos of the natural world cements my Consciousness in Moments of Beauty, anchoring me more closely to the Heart of Life, if you will.

When I'm lying on my death-bed, I don't want to define myself by my riches, possessions or popularity.  I don't even want to define myself by the highs and lows of my art journey, or by how I assess whatever successes or failures I may have had.

I want to define myself by my relationships.  That means relationships with other individuals,  those outside myself with whom I have chosen to spend segments of my life, and by my Relationship with the Universe.  This will depend on how many Moments of Beauty I have beheld (to use an old-fashioned word) and how many I've taken into my Soul that will forever Enrich, Inspire, and Nourish me, even as I pass from this Earth.

NOTE:  I've capitalized various words to give them emphasis.  Not proper usage, I know...

NOTE: You can click on each photo to see a larger version. All images and text on this blog are copyrighted material, and may be used only with written permission, except where syndication rights have been granted. All other rights reserved. Please visit my sites at http://LyndaLehmann.imagekind.com/ or http://www.absolutearts.com/lyndalehmann/ if you would like to see my acrylic paintings and more of my photography and digital art. You can find a list of my other sites and links in my blog's sidebar. Or google my name for more links. I hope you enjoyed your visit!

The Weave of Life

"Grounded"  -  Image by Lynda Lehmann c 2010

An expression of love for texture as the underpinning of all the Form(s) on Earth.

Observing the details of nature makes us mindful of the wonder and cycles of life, and our own mortality.

THE WEAVE OF LIFE

I move in firmaments of texture

concavities minute as

bumps of binary code

strung like lights in my mind.

I am visual, viewing the universe

in hieroglyphics:

scratches on glass

grass waving in the breeze

silver bangles in lake water.

In and out,

Consciousness swells

before the place

where streams of words

meet Comprehension.

I will die

dissociated from wisdom and certainty

as do all others,

alone on a Rock

where tides flow to Eternity.

Yet still alive,

I choose the arbor path,

a tactile path imbued with inklings of

water, bark, moss, lichen

and wisps of tattered clouds

dancing among treetops,

to savor the likeness of all things

and their interaction:

the Splendid Shining Weave of Life.

******

All comments and constructive criticism gratefully accepted! I don't know anything about poetry--have not studied it since high school--but still I have the compulsion to write it from time to time.

All images and text on this blog are copyrighted material, and may be used only with written permission by the author/artist, except where syndication rights have been granted. All other rights reserved. Please visit my primary art site at  Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography if you would like to see my paintings and more of my nature photography and digital art.

Thistle Thicket

Even the spiny thistle has its own character and beauty, and Nature’s wise hand plays its magic on both the buds and blossoms of that we customarily think of as a weed. Maybe our emphasis on labeling things is just a superficial convenience that really fragments our minds and closes off our perception. We dismiss things too easily, because we have labeled them by our own accord, i.e. by our verbal traditions, either personal or acquired. Whether we refer to something with a nickname we have coined or by the vernacular of our time and place, we may limit its impact on our lives by relegating it to a negative mindset and meaning. What do you think?

Image and Text c Lynda Lehmann

All images and text on this blog are copyrighted material, and may be used only with written permission by the author/artist, except where syndication rights have been granted. All other rights reserved.

"B" is For Barnside Beauty

One day last week during one of my routine "errand tours." I noticed the sunlit facade of a weathered old barn. I was stricken with the stunning variations that caught my eye, from the color changes to patterns and textural variation, in the wood. This facade was indeed like a permutation on the theme of aged wood. I was mesmerized.

This post shows several views of the same building, composed differently. The building has been patched, doctored, improvised upon, and altered through the decades, giving it even more interest. The original slats of siding are punctuated by the addition of glass, wire, and plexiglass, making it a repository of makeshift repair methods. You will note that none of these attempts detracts from the battered, antique quality of the wood.

I think I would define beauty as an aesthetic experience in which one's attention and perception are arrested and jolted out of everyday context and functioning, by a sensory stimulus (in this case, a visual) that causes one not just to pause, but to feel something akin to awe. Embedded in this kind of experience is, perhaps, a recognition of what C. S. Lewis called the experience of the "numinous."

C.S. Lewis was born into a Christian family. He became an atheist before he turned agnostic. At the age of 33 he became a believer, through exactly this kind of experience (couched in a deep joy through his visual and other sensory apparatus) which he considered to be evidence of a Greater Being, or God. He is perhaps best know for his children's series "The Chronicles of Narnia," but his writings on Christian religious views are extensive beyond his fiction works. My feeling when reading a few of his books was not that he was focused so much on a particular (in this case, Christian) view of the universe, so much as on the prevalence of what seem like miracles: phenomena of awesome beauty that reveal a great procreative power at the center of the universe.

C. S. Lewis' books are not easy reading, but I would recommend them to anyone interested in exploring religious and philosophical viewpoints.

Please note that on those occasions when I blog about religion or politics, I'm not espousing any particular belief system, merely exploring ideas in the spirit of sharing and communication.


All text and images c Lynda Lehmann. If you would like to view more of my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can buy my prints plain or matted and framed.

Images Evoking Torment

Broken Promises - Image c Lynda Lehmann

In the decay of our cultural institutions we find images that evoke the core of human suffering. Privation, need, fear, despair, insanity, and hopelessness. For me, the lesson in viewing such places is that by seeing scenes that can be described as either spiritually or physically ugly, we see the brighter things. Paradox is so deeply built into the human experience that by its very nature, it teaches us to look at things from a wider perspective. "Holistically," as one of my revered Art Education professors at Penn State University used to say.

Here are a few photos from the grounds of Kings Park Psychiatric Center, that I shot last week. The old state hospital is on what are now the grounds of Nissequogue River State Park in Suffolk County. You can wander the grounds but the buildings, for understandable reasons, are off-limits. Indeed they are crumbling, and would be dangerous to approach. It seems to me that New York State would do well to either reclaim these building for future generations, or destroy them. They're an attractive haven for wayward teenagers, I'm sure. And that in itself is dangerous. Perhaps they could be used to make a summer day camp, or sold to artists to renovate? Or just razed to increase the usable space of the existing park?

Eternal Struggle - Image c Lynda Lehmann

I enjoy walking there because ghosts of the past seem to whisper on the stale wind coming out of the dark windows. I enjoy the place visually, as a photographer. And as a bit of local history. But in hard economic times in particular, I would think the space, if not the buildings themselves, could be reclaimed for public use of some sort.

Best Forgotten - Image c Lynda Lehmann

A Voice from the Shadows - Image c Lynda Lehmann


Forbidden - Image c Lynda Lehmann

For me these structures evoke all the pain and torment of mental illness, for those who can't function in society and have so much behavioral difficulty that they need to be institutionalized. Sadly, mental health services have been cut drastically in the last three decades, and many people cannot get the care or guidance that they need.

Where Shadows Fall - Image c Lynda Lehmann

I've sometimes heard people say that there is beauty in ugliness. My interpretation is that in the duel, yin-yang nature of things, it's the ugly stuff that informs our consciousness and makes us lean, or strive, towards the light. And towards beauty, of course.

Many ramifications of duality lend themselves to discussion: the nature of paradox itself, good versus evil, the meaning and purpose of human institutions, our perceptions of the world, etc. What do you think? Do you ponder the contradictions of life? Are you comfortable with perceiving paradox? Or do you lean more towards absolutes--the black and white polarities--instead of standing with uncertainty in the "gray zone"?

All images and text c Lynda Lehmann. If you would like to view more of my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can choose from several sizes and paper types or buy my prints plain or matted and framed.