Sometimes art takes a turn, and by turning, changes everything. I have no idea where this came from ( but maybe now I do) and I have no idea how to come back from this (and now maybe I don’t want to). This new drum, offered in my webstore, waited for months and months to receive a painting. I never had a sense that it was unpainted (some are) but that something was coming…just not yet.
And then in a long pause after dinner, while meandering through many pages of the nature section of the Vancouver Regional Library on line, I discovered this book: Animal Voices, by Dawn Baumann Brunke. And everything, not just art, took a turn.
The listening drum. This is what I heard it named, after I painted the white wolf, or dog. Not listening for us to speak, but for waiting for us humans to listen.
Then came the bird. I feed a raven every morning something mouse-sized. Sometimes an actual mouse, as this bird breakfast started by me wondering what to do with the dead mice scattered about by three cats.
The bear changed everything. Wrapped around everyone. This was the completed composition for a time. And yet someone was on the left.
Such typical cat-ness. A little bit apart. Choosing connection but only just.
So what is going on here? Only the wolf dog is looking where we are looking. Everyone else is seeing something that is not us. Can we see what is not us? Apparently we can, if we listen.
Listen to this drum. We are all part of one Consciousness, and we all sing.
And what about the flower? Apparently bears have magnets in their feet that hold the planet together. Apparently we all do to some degree. But this is so another story, and I am not willing to be deemed this woo woo at my age.
But why not. Be woo woo. There is singing everywhere.
