Venice Biennale 2013 Part 1

It's a picture perfect fall day in October and I need to get outside and revel in it's yellow leaves but first I cannot resist writing just a few words in anticipation of my upcoming trip:  a life long dream unfolding soon to see Venice and this year's Biennale.   I will fly to Milan and then take a train to Venice in just a few weeks, a fast red train, if the online photo is an accurate indication, then find my way along the Grand Canal to La Biennale di Venezia.  I can envision the horizontal stripes on the gondolier's shirt already.  But before I float away with my fantasy within a fantasy, I best stick to the art part.

This years title, The Encyclopedic Palace, curated by the NY's New Museum curator, Massimiliano Gioni, was inspired by a fellow Italian, Marino Furiti.  His 1950's vision of a building where all the knowledge of the world would be contained was conceived to be built on the National Mall in Washington DC. It was never realized but the original architectural model will be on display in one of the rooms of the Biennale. For the Futurist, Furiti, this complete body of knowledge housed in a single building seemed quite plausible. Presumably it would have been a world library filled with books. Today, in the age of electronic information exchange, perhaps all we need is a virtual library.

The pieces of knowledge I am most interested in seeing are in the Central Pavilion where curator Gioni has brought together forty pages of The Red Book, Carl Gustav Jung's illuminated manuscript of his personal dream interpretations and mandala paintings created during the time after his split with Freud.  Also I am so jazzed to see the original paintings from 1942 by Frieda Harris for Aleister Crowley's Thoth Tarot Deck.  I own this deck and marvel at the exquisite details in the reproductions, the images Lady Freida Harris created for these fortune-telling cards, otherworldly conceptions of the suits filled with references to ancient Egypt, archtypal chalices, eggs and serpents, putti shooting eros, griffins and flying horsemen. She studied synthetic geometry in 1937 based on the principals of Goethe and applied them to the designs of the cards, as well as her study of Rudolf Steiner's Anthroposophy.  I think it is brilliant move that Gioni included these works along side of 21st century contemporary painting, video and sculpture -what one would expect to see in this context. This work bridges the gap between the centuries bringing forward the idea of the artistic realms of the subconscious, the spirit within the development of creative expression first brought into the contemporary dialogue in the twentieth century. Those mysterious realms of thought and feeling that all artists draw from and recontextualize.

Noted in a recent review, Gioni's Biennale "ruthlessly leaves the 20th century behind" and "posits the absurdity of knowledge as meaning in our information overloaded era."* True words or not, I look forward to looking back at the history in every building along the Grand Canal, at the still relevant work of Carl Jung and Lady Frieda Harris and the delightful good fortune that their work should be shown together to consider in terms of information of the unconscious, the dreamy and the mystical - all so much a part of the watery Neptunian place that is Venice.

In the same Central Pavilion there are Shaker Gift Drawings; some work by the Swedish mystic, Hilma af Klint, her paintings are considered some of the first abstract art and Anonymous Tantric Paintings. I have read there is a 200 year old church from Vietnam, perhaps better described as a temple, that will also be part of this exhibition. I cannot image how it was moved nor do I grasp the greater question of why? But I want to lay eyes on it never- the- less and perhaps in the process understand the curious human interventions that make up the totality of this exercise.

I just had the happy luck of the draw to place a painting from my new series of work in the City of Albuquerque Public Art and Urban Enhancement collection-thrilled and honored. To celebrate I am making this trip.  Seeing Venice itself will be a sweet cake for the eyes and the biennale I expect will be the icing. But then again, maybe it will be a gondolier.

 

Footnote  *Financial Times, A Picasso for the Facebook Age

by Jackie Wullschlager

At the Vortex of Sobriety

It was the 4th of July and fireworks were going off non-stop all over the city on an evening in America when many celebrate freedom.  I was in Los Angeles visiting a friend and I had the opportunity to go to two AA meetings with him as his guest.  Two meetings back to back, the second one at a place called the Vortex in a concrete jungle of an area, not hospitable to any life forms that I could detect: no trees, birds or bees, not a dog, a squirrel, or a cat to be seen. 

But inside the warehouse size space I sat in a small circle with a group of six who were alive in ways I had not expected. Never having been to an AA meeting before this evening, I expected it to be sad and depressing. Instead I felt inspired and touched on a deep level by the profound honesty of these people to be real with one another. Each person, so beautiful as individuals and in their willingness to be present with each other in an effort to stay sober another day.   One man was asked to be the speaker at this meeting, I was thoroughly impressed by the articulate, yet humble, way he spoke about his former life- starting each day with alcohol and substance abuse- prior to his current sobriety. He said, "I have been sober for three years and I am still not well."   I could hardly hold back my emotions, maybe I should not have tried. Since then, I have realized many of my own issues, fears, insecurities might be helped if I had a support group as well.   The whole experience left me feeling that everyone needs a group like AA.  I have rarely, if ever, heard anyone so free of self-deceit about the self-destructive behavior of their life decisions than in those two meetings.

Since I have returned home, I have thought a lot about the organization, how it started, how it works, how it has survived, the camaraderie, the support, the steps, the sponsors, but mostly the honesty.  Gut wrenching on many levels and so human.  At the first meeting that night, a couple (they are engaged to be married) spoke about their personal emotional sobriety. Two alcoholics, each sober for a few years, sitting across from one another, talking face to face about getting clear with their own feelings. It was powerful to witness. 

In the city of angels, tremendous booms from the fireworks rippled through the airwaves for hours that evening after sunset, the most warlike sounds I have ever heard in one place at one time.  Admittedly, July 4th is not my favorite holiday, but this one I will not forget. I will hold the memory of these stories, the struggle to be free of addictions.  For you my old friend: may you live to celebrate liberation, release, deliverance, independence day in sobriety next year, one day at a time!  

In Winged Collaboration

I had the most amazing experience in Minneapolis last week, sitting outside on the deck behind my mother's place. We heard crows talking, talking really loudly for a few minutes and I sensed that it was an emergency.  I had heard a story and saw an iphone picture of a red-tailed hawk in the vicinity, that had killed a duck, by the back of the building a few days earlier.  There is a large swampy water area there with lots of wildlife- birds and ducks, four precious goslings and their parents, baby ducklings, rabbits, and squirrels- that we had been watching from my mother's third floor apartment and on the deck.  Listening to the crows caw caw caw, I thought the hawk must be back for another meal.  Sure enough, just as that thought crossed my mind, we saw him/her, huge, flying above our heads with four black crows circling around, escorting this bird of prey out of the neighborhood. The crows appeared small in comparison to the wingspan of the Red-tailed hawk, their body size maybe half that of the hawk, but together flying in cooperation, they made quite a stellar force.  I love them all, the hawks and the crows, all the winged ones; I could not take sides but just watch in awe at their aerial battle.  

A spectacle to behold for those of us living in condensed cities, it's rare to get a glimpse of these PBS type moments. I do not mean that in a flip way, but in reverence for nature and and the profound experiences we miss when we are stuck in traffic jams on freeways that are anything but free when we look at the high price of petroleum dependence.  I know I diverge but the crows made me think about cooperation and collaboration. This hawk could easily take on one of the crows but not four at a time.  Together the crows were keeping their neighborhood alerted to the danger approaching and as a team they worked to pilot the hawk from the area.  

I am reading the book Moral Ground now, a compilation of essays by some environmentally conscious folks.  A few of my favorite writers and many more names I am unfamiliar with, all writing about the climate and the pressing need for us to come together in solidarity around the daunting challenge to amend our ways. Barbara Kingsolver in her essay, How to Be Hopeful, says, "in the awful moment when somebody demands at gunpoint, "Your money or your life," [it's] not supposed to be a hard question."  We could choose life. The Dalai Lama says in the same book, "[t]o counteract ... harmful practices we can teach ourselves to be more aware of our own mutual dependence.  Every sentient being wants happiness instead of pain.  So we share a common basic feeling.  We can develop right action to help the earth and each other based upon better motivation."

Certainly, I hope to live to see change.  I hope to live to see humanity work better together, in collaboration like the crows, to adjust our ways and alert to danger approaching, transform. 

Red-tailed Hawk: www.youtube.com/watch?v=McIg8fT4mck

Ornithology Dream Lab

Last Friday night, I dreamt of a beautiful bird, it was not one I had ever seen before. It was distinct in its coloring and form. When I woke I carried the dream vision of it in my psyche- a large bird in flight that turned into a small bird when it landed.  I puzzled over the meaning of it.  Dream guidance from author, Robert Moss says, "We should view our dreams as more real and our waking life as more symbolic."  I have been keeping that advice in mind as I walk through my days lately and I find it to be most helpful. 

 

After reading an essay by another teacher, Jose Stevens, about the nature of the energy of animals and birds in the universe, I thought my dream was a sort of further lesson on that. In it, Stevens' says: Shamans understand that there are two ways of knowing. "One way of knowing utilizes the rational mind via the brain and the other one uses inner knowing via the heart and the brain. Inner knowing is related to Essence, so almost anything that one wants to know about the universe can be known or glimpsed this way. This second way of knowing is also the one that other intelligences use to communicate with us." 

Later that Saturday, the day after the dream, I found myself passing by a place where there are three man-made fishing ponds, an area families frequent to fish and to picnic.  As I drove by, I noticed a large bird flying low over one of the ponds- I had never seen this bird before, neither in a photo or live.  I pulled over and grabbed my binoculars quickly, in order to gaze closer and unbelievably, this bird looked just like the bird in my dream. As beautiful, as remarkable to my eyes as anything I have ever observed.  A different beauty than the Great Blue Heron, or the elegant White Egret I saw today, none-the-less awesome to witness in flight. Once home I surfed the net until I found him: a Black-Crowned Night Heron!  The small photo at the site reminded of my dream, first flying large, then landed, small.  

In my childhood home, I was raised more in the consciousness of "no-ing" than in knowing, if you get my drift. There was a long suffering, fear-based, teaching that one should say "no" to life more often than "yes."  If a joyful opportunity to do something new arose, in my family there would usually follow a litany of reasons not to do it.  The idea of inner knowing via the heart is something I am learning anew each day.  Thank you Black -Crowned Night Heron for entering my dream laboratory and offering me the possibility to recognize you in real time.  You have taught me that dreams do come true, that winged ones communicate with humans in many ways. I am enlivened by your flight into the realm of my inner knowing.

Mother's Day: The Garden of Silence, part ii

On all of the Sundays that I have observed in silence, every other week, since last August 2012, I have kept my sacred vow.  Well, there has been a slipped word or two -an automatic, "sorry"  for something once or twice.  And, I admit, a four-letter word slid out of my mouth one day, oops. Fortunately no one heard that.  

I am not perfect, but all in all, it's been a successful campaign, one I will continue with a glad heart.   Last week however, I gave myself permission to make one phone call to my 94 year old mother for Mother's Day.   She doesn't know about my Sunday's in silence, not for any reason other than I thought it might confuse her if she needed to reach me.  So we had a lovely chat in the late morning and that felt absolutely right. I cannot think of a better reason to break my silent ritual.  Anyone who has a Mother at that age, would no doubt agree, a lucky thing to have her longevity, health and her pretty sound mind. Not something you want to miss, or take for granted, especially on Mother's Day!  I desire to nurture our connection, even long distance, as long is she is on this physical plane. 

As mentioned in the previous piece, (A Lesson in Calm) in a Craniosacral training class, I participated in last year, with Michael Dunning, he said:

In the earliest embryonic process, the human heart arises from stillness, deep stillness for 48 hours-as the future heart gets impregnated with spiritual information.  The heart forms above the future head and folds into the interior space of the body later.  When we are first conceived, our form, the zygote-meaning yoked, like yoga- is more of a mineral than an animal, cells dividing inwardly, not expanding until we are implanted into the wall of the uterus.  Once that happens we are more plant -like than animal.  A thin membrane connects our spine to our mother before there is an umbilical cord, we are more two-dimensional than three-dimensional, like a sprout.  

We are truly rooted to Mother Earth through the womb of our mother and we are rooted to stillness, it is in our earliest nature to be held in the space of the eternal connection to Mother.  Just returning from a visit to the bosque near my home in Albuquerque, the wooded area I love, I felt called to a few trees along the ditch we call the "Mother Ditch."  This is the main ditch or acequia that runs from the Rio Grande River.  There are dozens of ducklings paddling in the shallow water with their feathered parents now. Next to the embankment and near to a major freeway overpass, several trees have rooted themselves.  One is a young elm, another, a Russian Olive, but the one that called to me was a fruit-bearing Mulberry tree.  As I came closer to its waving arms, I saw that some of its berries were dark, ripe and already falling on the ground below. I delighted in eating them right off the branches in gratitude for being nurtured in the tenderness of this sweet fruit. To all Mothers, human and other than human, much love to you, may you know deep sweetness for all you do.