“It’s the cog in my life. With this, everything suddenly coheres. And I understand myself in that way.”
~ Al Pacino, on performing
I mainly think of art as a form of self-expression. Yes, I know, academically, that it’s also self-elucidating. But I really do approach art in a sort of Rilke way: I do it because I must. And so, I “… build … [my] life in accordance with this necessity; … even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, [it] must become a sign and witness to this impulse.” (Rilke, Selected Letters Of Rainer Maria Rilke). I’ve spent so many years doing the work that I thought I should be doing and that I thought others thought I should be doing. It killed my soul, left me like a burnt out husk. My brother told me some time ago that, when our true nature gets suppressed (for whatever reason), our darker side emerges. Indeed. Darkness, chaos, confusion … they all reigned in my psyche and soul at that time in my life.
Reconnecting with my creative spirit was part of my healing process. And continues to be a part of my everyday existence. It connects me by allowing me to express things, things so visceral, I cannot even verbalize them. Art provides a vehicle through which I can communicate with myself without engaging in deliberation or any kind of insightful reflection. And I’m finding these bits of intelligence invaluable. They’re elucidating, clarifying, truthifying, and wise, always very, very wise.