Each time I create a collage, whether it is on canvas, wood, paper, or with my digits, I am in awe of the process. To create is a mystery and to be in the presence of this mystery is an enigma. And to explore this enigma is a gift ~ I feel this deeply.

I love the creative process. I look at it with a sense of wonder and realize fully that I will never achieve to understand its path. This space is beyond space. Sounds can no longer be translated into words and words no longer carry meanings. A new language arises out of wordless stillness or even at times out of wordless restlessness.

It is almost impossible to communicate but when I am entrenched in the process, I become keenly aware of the emptiness and conscious of the nothingness within the fullness of it all. Whatever word, poem, thought stirred me on to create, translates now into a force of energy, a living energy. It was Henri Bergson, the French Philosopher (1859-1941), who referred to this energy in his book Creative Evolution, as the vital impulse or élan vital.

Into the Mystery

 

As I create, I feel deeply in touch with my intuition or is it my spirit. Perhaps, it is just both. Pieces, colours, forms, flow in and out of me and the impulse moves through me. What did not make sense one moment makes perfect sense in the next moment.  As long as I keep moving the fragments around, I see the story unfold. And at that moment when all the pieces of the collage come together to form a whole, I understand the mystery of unity. I can feel that what passes through you lives within me.

Space, breath, wind, air, trees. We are that.

All of us different and yet ~ all connected to the same.

I feel the certainty of our oneness and the certainty of that which binds us all together.

 

At moments, I have illuminations that the process is so much greater than the results. I feel the path leads me into an unlimited ocean of self-knowledge. My intuitive choices show me who I am, they reveal what I am about and what I wish to be expressing.

Let me take a moment here to drift out of my words into those of Jacob Bronowski (1908-1974) who wrote about the creative process and touched upon this very point:

If we appreciate the thing, it is because we relive the heady freedom of making it. Beauty is the by-product of interest and pleasure in the choice of action.

 

I am in dialogue with the process of art often. It is my teacher, a teller of new tales and a creative energy, which consumes and intrigues me.

 

~ Art liberates ~

 

I must stop to inhale these words three more times. I love these words. I am these words.

They are the experience.

 

There is inherent creativity in all of us, it is our vitality, our ~ essence ~ this is where our voice begins and where it will end. It is the door into our shadows, which then come to meet us.

Does my process sound more beautiful on paper? I wonder about this question as I explore what it feels like to reveal parts of my creative process on a page. It is difficult to express what to me is a mystery. And it feels almost impossible to explain the enigma. Nonetheless, I have an irresistible urge to search for the right words  ~‘le mot juste’ ~ in my attempt to explain it.

But perhaps it just is beautiful ~ painfully beautiful ~ this creative process that gives birth to mysterious images of energy.