Thursday, June 16, 2011

the white blank page

the white blank page is my favorite

my favorite mumford and sons song and my favorite part of the creative process...

the white blank page.

maybe that's part of why i love it out here so much.
the mentwais are such an unscathed... untouched... uncorrupted canvas (or so it seems).
there is no agenda... no rules or even time... it just doesn't exist.

there is just so much space.
infinite space.

i found myself walking down the beach today, watching my feet sink into the white sand with each step i took leaving a perfect imprint of my sole (soul?)...

I got back to the driftwood castle and found John E sawing at a piece of driftwood and making something... creating something from what others might have seen as nothing.

Last night we had a bonfire on the beach at the edge of the island.

Birdie and I hatched out the plan on that lazy afternoon and made ourselves the party planning committee... sitting on the counter in the kitchen discussing and planning what we needed to get together after lunch. He and our friend Tom went to go for an afternoon surf, stopping by the back of the island to collect the driftwood and build the bonfire while i collected the food and got ice for the eskie (the way aussie's say ice chest)...

Cahn went out into the channel behind where our bonfire would be to spearfish and caught a red snapper.
Linda and I made popcorn, salad, collected beers, gin & tonics, peanuts, and my guitar and by time the boys were back from surfing the sun was starting to do down and we were ready to load up the red wheel barrows and roll them down to the other end of the island to see the full moon start to rise.

John E. came down next and immediately started looking through the tee-pee of driftwood Tom & Birdie had collected, pulling out pieces saying "whoa! whoa! that's building materials! you can't burn this! it's a perfect towel rack! come on!"

A perfect example of what i'm talking about... seeing the art that hasn't been created yet in a piece of wood...

This is the way i see a white blank page.

There is SO much space on a blank canvas. I can write about anything... to anyone... i can use an endless string of words and spill my soul onto this white page... or this blinking white screen. it's the most beautiful invitation for creativity that i know of.

it's FROM the simplicity and the nothingness that we are afforded the opportunity to create and begin.

I guess that's why Shiva is the God of destruction, creation & transformation... it's all a cycle like the waxing & waning moon that hung in it's full glory last night... there is always death and birth and death... and like in permaculture design in gardening, one plant dies and becomes the fertilizer for the new plant that is growing next to it.

I have realized that losing two houses to fire was a great blessing. I was able to start over.
And maybe that is why i have the confidence to let go of things i love and leave lives behind to forge new tracks in the sand...
because i KNOW that to rip out that page that you've been drawing on, doodling on all day every day for your entire life...
to rip that page out and burn it and start fresh on a white blank page...

there is no greater gift!

we can be whoever we want to be.
we can GO wherever we want to go...

because all that exists is space on that white blank page.

i feel like i use this metaphor a lot...

when people i love die, i find that the space left behind (their angel) is like the gift of space in my heart.. when i hear people refer to the "hole in my heart" i try to think to myself how lucky that we have a hole... we have an empty space that is not spoken for... something that WE get to choose to fill...

and i think the goal (at least for me) is to use Vinyasa Krama - meaning "carefully placed step" to decide consciously what i want to fill that empty space with.

At the Burning Man art festival in Black Rock City, Nevada 50,000 beings gather upon the ultimate white blank page... the white gypsum dust desert floor where nothing grows, but one week a year, when 50,000 spirits grow.
Each person comes into the community and draws their own unique squiggle until the playa is a pulsating, moving, breathing, glowing, collaborative art piece.

Our fire burned bright last night under that full moon and made me think of burning man and my community i left behind in venice often throughout the night.

i wrote an email to my goddess sister before falling asleep and woke up to the most beautiful response from her.

In it she said:
"I make up communicating with you can be hard between a white screen and a keyboard. I know this is not what you want to hear when you're thousands of miles away from the people you love but maybe it's a slight downfall to how present we all are. Man, that sounds awful but it's actually a beautiful thing. I just try to connect to your spirit, the thought of bringing it to words can be overwhelming."

I forgot (for the ten millionth time in my life) that not everyone is like me...
umm.. i mean... actually NOBODY is like me... but what i mean, is that not everyone loves the white blank page...

i just assume that all these mirror reflections of myself... my friends and family who i love and see myself in so clearly... i think that they would want to sit down and get butterflies in their stomach to see a white blank page with which they could write to me... spill their soul to me in their own unique voice and flavor and know that i would slurp up every last word they wrote to me...

But i understand that some/most people see emptiness as daunting and overwhelming... and also i recognize that i was born as a highly articulate person that is able to find the words i want to use to explain colorfully and fully what i am trying to get across.
Most people have a harder time doing that i think.

So today i give thanks to the blank white page...
to starting over... and over... and over....
and being grateful for the space to create absolutely anything, always, in the emptiness.

and to give thanks to my friends who send their love in other ways then in writing.
i feel your love.
i'm infused by it and eternally grateful.

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