Sketched quite a bit this month while also loading earlier drawings onto Instagram. Though drawing only two years now, I can’t believe how much stuff I’ve produced, how many different types of sketches. Here’s some of what I did this month:
I’m feeling the itch to start painting again with watercolors. Maybe, later this year, once it starts getting dark and cold, it’ll be a good time to experiment with paints and papers. Here’s more from September:
Typically, while out on a walk or off on a drive, I’ll catch a glimpse of something marvelous — something that stops my heart, something I want to dwell inside of, something I want to share. So I’ll snap a shot with my cell phone. Then, back home, I’ll spend some time with my paper, pens and pencils, and let the meditation roll.
It’s hard not to walk past St Paul’s cathedral in upper Noe Valley, especially with Bernal Heights rising in the background, and not just stop to breathe in the beauty of telephone wires — and to say a silent prayer of thanks.
Irony abounds in San Francisco, if only visually. Here, in 1895, at the corner of Gough & Ellis, St Mark’s Lutheran Church brought the word of God to the city. In 1964, a Goliath Tower rose beside the Church, replacing the word with views only God could afford.
In the end, if a pilgrim seeks to find the Lord, there’s nothing like taking a drive out of town, crossing a couple bridges, passing through mountains, following two-lane roads deep into farmland. There’s a moment that comes after killing the ignition, a moment full of country silence, a moment to take a breath — to breathe it all in.
Looks like Chinese millennials are equally apathetic as their western counterparts. That’s according to China’s Global Times.
Rather than focus on capitalistic careers or communist-party dogma, China’s so-called Zen Generation is turning away from money and Mao and looking farther back in history, back to Buddha himself and his image of inner peace.
Sounds like these twentysomething Chinese are lacking a little Confucian structure. They prefer to lounge around in Lao Tzu’s Tao, waiting for wu wei to woo them off the couch.
Actually, this bodes well for China’s future. If she can detach from imported ideologies, if she can return to her own ancient wisdom, the rest of the world would be wise to follow.
In Zen-bending Japan, the idea of a “rustic, withered loneliness” turned romantic over time, adapting into an appreciation of flaws, a respect for spontaneous error.
American writer Ernest Hemingway urged fellow writers to imbue their characters with lots of flaws, the more the better; and the more real their characters seemed.
The Bible introduced a God willing to forgive our faults and flaws, someone to love us unconditionally, no matter our transgressions.
And the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi accepts the flaws in our efforts, appreciates them as examples of wu wei, as examples of unintended action, and then celebrates them — raising them to the level of art.