The Beauty in Chaos

We are born of Chaos. A  singularity known as the Big Bang  sent forth into being an ever expanding commencement of all things.

Clouds of dense gas and swirling universes come together and are pulled apart….Stars  are  born, they shine and explode and then die. Black holes devour all they touch. Galaxies collide spraying stars into eternity. Particles are continuously being created and destroyed; blinking in and out of existence akin to a ginormous Schlesinger’s Cat.

We are born of  hydrogen and oxygen, of nothingness and of everything. We are truly stardust come down to Earth.

 Our home this planet has had a violent past and without all that disarray and upheaval we would not be here today.

We come from chaos and someday we’ll return there too. This is how infinity perpetrates itself.

We are a part of that.

As we are a part of everything.

OUR LOVELY HOME
“It’s a cruel and random world, but the chaos is all so beautiful.” ― Hiromu Arakawa

Albert Einstein once said that in the middle of difficulty lies opportunity. He knew that a stirring of the waters can sometimes conger up the fish. We know from history that many a good thing can result from many a bad thing indeed and if necessity is the mother of invention then perhaps chaos can be the father of the creative thought that sparks that necessity.

Fate forces our hand and we must act, even inaction is a form of action or reaction. We can go with the flow or fight it. Life is a raging river, never standing still, always moving, never the same…change is the only constant.

The death of one can come about the birth of another

Extinction of the dinosaurs. Computer artwork of a group of dinosaurs and flying reptiles fleeing a vast fire. This may have been caused by a volcanic eruption or meteorite impact. Such events have occurred before in Earth's history, and will do so again. Both events can trigger a lowering of global temperatures as clouds of dust and ash reduce the amount of sunlight reaching the surface. Plant and then animal life dies off. The mass loss of life that included the extinction of the dinosaurs took place some 65 million years ago at the end of the Cretaceous period. The flying reptiles here are Pteranodons, and the quadraped dinosaur are sauropods called Titanosaurs.
We are the inheritors of a wonderful world, a beautiful world, full of life and mystery, goodness and pain. But likewise are we the children of an indifferent universe. We break our own hearts imposing our moral order on what is, by nature, a wide web of chaos.” ― Colin Meloy

Chaos is raw violence. It rips apart what was to make room for what will be. In it’s upheaval change does not waiver. It is indifferent to fate. It just is. Change devours the status quo. In its varying degrees it can make quite an impact. Life ebbs and flows.  Stability returns with the growth that follows upheaval. Life is but a dance between the two extremes seeking to find an undulating balance between them.

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/35-years-after-mt-st-helens-eruption-nature-returns/
35 years after Mount St. Helens eruption, nature returns

Music interrupts silence and color disturbs the black and white. The peanut butter in my ice cream has only increased it’s tastiness to me

Imagine a world that never changes, a river that never flows, a planet that has lost its spin. Imagine a world without the audacity of   daybreak. Imagine a blank piece of paper where words will never be. Imagine the leaves never falling off the trees, or crying babies never being born, imagine the butterfly never emerging from her chrysalis and becoming the butterfly she is meant to be…

two-tailed-pasha-butterfly-emerging-from-its-pupa

This is why we need chaos you see…

Despite the pain of  upheaval. Wonderful things can be found among the ruins. Sometimes it can be oneself.

nancy-smile-in-green-happy-4

I am myself at a time in my life where I have found the courage to make some drastic life changes. I write this as I sit in my new apartment, my name on the lease. It is mostly devoid of things for now but it holds the most precious thing of all: Love. The love that this place abounds in. I am truly blessed to have people around me that love me and encourage me to be the best me I can be. An unexpected butterfly landed on my shoulder one day last February and I haven’t been the same since. I found the strength to leave a situation that was not healthy for me or my children.  I have taken upon myself to change this situation that I had lived with for many years. I will continue to keep you posted. Suffice to say I am happy and excited!!

~NLM

 

 


 

 

 

spiral space galaxies 2 pair

Look deeper through the telescope
and do not be afraid when the stars
collide towards the darkness,
because sometimes the most beautiful
things begin in chaos.”
Robert M. Drake

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Debussy, Clair de lune 

 

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35 years after Mount St. Helens eruption, nature returns

 

 

 

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The Mad Artist

You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” 

― Friedrich Nietzsche

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What is it that takes over one’s mind and compels them to create? Is it sickness? Or madness? What is it that runs through the long corridors of souls and haunts hearts with this need to make something where once there was nothing; be it a blank page or a white canvas…or a pile of wood…empty bandwidth or file space or…. just empty silence? Whatever the emptiness, it is the artist that yearns to fill it.

How does one fill emptiness ? I suppose there are as many different ways to create as there are individual artists. The nature of creativity is that it is centered in the new and the untried. There is always a risk to creation. It takes a lot of backbone to present ones work to be judged by the eyes of others, to be put up on display in front of the crowd…. it’s a gusty thing to do.

Art is definitely meant to be appreciated and the role of appreciator can be just as important as the artist. Art can be a group experience–community wide.  Art encourages more art…which is a beautiful thing.

L I F E   is   A R T

Art comes in endless various forms..shapes and hues.  It is a rich phenomena, experience, wonder…whatever you call it it..it is sheer delight. Art can awaken and excite the senses.

It can be exhilarating, scintillating, sensual even, but also fun and whimsical…it can also be deep and rich and sometimes sad..it is emotional and it is real. You can feel it. It is that feeling that makes it great art in whatever form.

Artists, good ones, anyway…infuse an essence of themselves into their creation; a small taste of their inner soul…the really good ones make you feel what they feel.

 

monarch-butterfly

Life is color…

It is vivid-intense, sometimes stark and sad, but a great bright and spirited thing with wings.

~N.L McKinley

sbi eyes new sepia

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” 

― Ray Bradbury

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It’s a mad compulsion, speaking here from experience. Writing is infused into me…I need to write, it is a thirst that is never quite quenched. As a shy child I spent many hours alone. Writing was my only outlet. I would pour out my feelings to paper, writing as fast as I could. I would keep everything I wrote and I never showed anyone.  Whenever I was happy or sad or confused my thoughts would go straight to paper.  I was never much for talking. I kept my feelings deeply contained inside me.

I still do write everything out. I have made the mistake in the past of publishing things perhaps I shouldn’t have. I am a sensitive sort and at times I cannot move past something without writing it out.

I can become quite testy when I don’t have a chance to write. I become like a caged animal; I pace, looking out the window. I get anxious and tense.  It is not fun to be around me at those times. I must admit I do have my dark moods but once I get at them by writing I am as free as a bird–totally unencumbered and at ease with the world.

It’s like I am a junkie who has just had a fix. I am never as happy as when I am in the middle of it all; writing away…fingers tapping, when I reach an especially engaging patch my fingers get faster and faster, the tapping gets harder and louder. When I am going at full tilt it is total ecstasy!

That is my personal madness and I claim it as my own. Are you a bit mad? Do you engage in a creative endeavor that demands your engagement? Tell me about your madness and we can compare notes.

Have a fantastic day full of loveliness,

Strawberryindigo.

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“You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your loins and a super-voluptuous flame permanently aglow in your subtle spine

Vladimir Nabokov

van gogh self-portrait-with-bandaged-ear-1889-1.jpg!Blog

Famous Artists a to z

(biography.com)

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 A brief history of mental illness in art (scientificamerican.com)

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Artist Paints by Snorting Colors Then Crying Them Onto a Canvas (newsfeed.time.com)

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An open letter to all the sensitive artist types

  

  Hello there. I am one of you and we are legion.  Our lot is a deep one, a gutsy one for sure. We are a strange group with a yearning desire to be our unique selves in this plastic preconceived prefabricated world.  It is we who come up with the ideas that others consume.

I know most of us are compelled to do this, this whatever we do that we deem art. And this compulsion runs deep, at least for me. For so many years I deprived myself of artistic endeavors, never making the time for it… thinking it frivolous, unnecessary…calling it a stupid dream and retreating back into the doldrums.

The voice never dies completely…this need to create, to share oneself. That voice grew from a whisper to a scream. I had to listen. The floodgates opened and they haven’t closed yet.  It’s a compulsion, a need like air to breathe.  Creative people know what I mean by this.  Sometimes I think living the life of someone a bit more “typical” would be simpler and easier. Less painful perhaps? At times the thought is tempting but in the end I wouldn’t want to live without this colorfully crazy creative streak.

Endless forms most beautiful

Art comes in endless forms.  I see it in everyday life from the musician and the writer to the carpenter, computer programmer, physicist, or cook. It is the soul of the person creating it that makes it beautiful. In my mind the only requirement for art to be art is that it contains a tiny drop of essence of the artist. If it’s honest and true that is what’s important. It is the stuff of daydreams and the inner workings of the soul that makes it memorable and remarkable.

Good art entertains, it amuses. It is whimsical and fun.

Great art makes you feel. Sometimes quite deeply and your life is forever changed by it.

The Starry Night, June 1889, The Museum of Mod...
Image via Wikipedia

Starry Starry Night

A few years back I had the pleasure of seeing live and in color several major works by some of my favorite Impressionists, including the great Vincent Van Gogh.  It was the brushstrokes that did it. I could see the mind of the master at work…the one who takes command of the brush and creates a universe with it.  There is a force to the artist.  The gutsy part.  Vincent had it all right, we artists need that;  the show off….the ham. The part that is compelled to share that which we have created.  Even shy ones like me have that side… but there is also the other side; the sensitive one.   Vincent had that in spades. He poured out his heart onto the canvas with wild abandon.  I believe that creativity lies in that deep soulful side. I have that side…the indigo to my strawberry. It was that side that started to cry in the middle of the exhibit. I welled up and couldn’t stop. I couldn’t even see the art at that point but the images from that day will forever be etched in my memory.

What I am trying to say

This piece is entitled: An open letter to all sensitive artist types and it is. However,  I do have one certain artist in mind when I write this and to that person I say…..

It is the artists that stick their neck out. It takes courage to put your work in front of others. Your heart is on a plate for others to dissect and chew up. Humans are natural judges and it’s a hard dose to swallow when you are on the receiving end of a disinterested audience.  What is the purpose of art if it is not shared?  And appreciated.

It takes courage to pursue a dream and awfully thick skin.  Unfortunately most of us artistic types are sensitive and all the courage in the world doesn’t stop hurt feelings.  Some people are jerks and will knock anyone down who dares to dream. But don’t stop. Don’t ever stop dreaming. Because once in a while dreams do come true.  Don’t let a few sour grapes spoil a fantastic bottle of wine.

But don’t just listen to me:

A work of art is the unique result of a unique temperament.  Its beauty comes from the fact that the author is what he is.  It has nothing to do with the fact that the other people want what they want.  Indeed, the moment an artist takes notice of what other people want, and tries to supply the demand, he ceases to be an artist….”

**Oscar Wilde**

Have a wildly creative day

Strawberryindigo.

 

Indigo Rant: Critics

Great barracuda with prey.
Image via Wikipedia

You’re so vain …..

I bet you think this post is about you..Perhaps it is..If you see yourself in the forthcoming words, don’t be alarmed, just listen…

Ronald Reagan once said “I don’t pay much attention to critics.

The world is divided into two kinds of people:

Those who can and those who criticize.”

No truer words were ever spoken by anyone.  The fact that it comes from someone I disagreed with politically and morally do not take away from the wisdom of those words.

It seems that where there is art and where there are artists and creative types there are a few critics hanging around.  I guess that makes sense, for how could a critic be a critic without something or someone to criticize. Usually critics have trouble with the creation process themselves, they tend to resent those for whom creativity comes naturally.

These people are usually bright and scholarly. Some have impressive degrees and credentials but one can’t just acquire creativity so easily and so shallowly.  Creativity cannot be taught by convention and laws and whatever someone said before.  Creativity is from the heart.  From the soul itself and everything that is the essence of a person; all the beauty and the ugliness. 

It could be some cannot bare to give a long hard look at themselves.  Maybe it’s ego? It would be easy to think these critical types would have enormous egos but it may be quite the opposite.  I think that criticism….I’m talking about unconstructive criticism, not anyone trying to be helpful but someone who is trying to be hurtful.  A petty spiteful kind of criticism, I think that kind of criticism shows in a profound manner, the character of the one who’s criticizing.

I feel I must say something to these people, these critics, why leave it all to Ronnie Baby.  So here it goes…

I have a little advice for Mr. and/or Ms. Critical.  Free your Mind.  Acknowledge the fact that you do not know everything about everything. I don’t know if you are bored or angry or lonely or whatever, I do know that your kind destroys what it does not understand in its quest for its posession. 

For my friend,  You do not possess creativity or the appreciation of it.  It possesses you. Learn it, know it, feel it.  Perhaps you may join the world of those who contribute, we would love to have you

Wishing you well…

Strawberryindigo.