“Reflections” by Hope Wilson

“Reflections” by Hope Wilson, acrylic on paper

Only art and music have the power to bring peace.

—Yoko Ono

First Meditate

Untitled by Hope Wilson, acrylic on paper

First meditate, be blissful, then much love will happen of its own accord. Then being with others is beautiful and being alone is also beautiful. Then it is simple, too. You don’t depend on others and you don’t make others dependent on you. Then it is always a friendship, a friendliness. It never becomes a relationship, it is always a relatedness. —Osho

Hope Art

A tiny Chihuahua named Tiny, of course!

Dolphin Tasty Cereal

This makes me smile. Big.

by Hope

Living in the Trees

“I want to long for nothing—to be desireless. To just enjoy the gifts of each day. To feel the love that is already present. The warm sand beneath my feet, the constant rush of the waves, the 1001 interesting (amazing!) things I encounter in nature, all are food for my soul. How to make this my living reality and not just a vacation?” (Costa Rica, June 27, 2013)

Opening up the window, I hear a few lingering crickets singing in the autumn sunshine. A chipmunk springs like a mini kangaroo through the damp leaves. Birds gorge on intoxicating juniper berries and the tart, red-orange berries of the mountain ash tree. On this day, as so many times before, I’m reflecting on how removed we are from nature and how delicious and healing it would be to live closer to the sea and among the trees.

Years ago, I read a book that I can no longer remember the title of; however, in this unnamed book it mentioned The Moon and Sixpence, which is a novel (written by William Somerset Maugham) loosely based on the life of the French artist Paul Gauguin. I hadn’t thought about Gauguin much since I read The Moon and Sixpence, but I read another book recently called Beachcombing at Miramar that makes a reference to Gauguin’s semi-autobiographical book Noa Noa. Naturally, my interest was piqued and I set out to find a copy of Noa Noa. I admire Gauguin, who in his early 40s abandoned everything to follow his heart. For 63 days he sailed to reach his dream: to paint in Tahiti. After shedding his European ways (his clothing even!) and spending some time in an island hut, Gauguin muses:

Silence! I am learning to know the silence of a Tahitian night. In this silence I hear nothing except the beating of my heart.

But the rays of the moon play through the bamboo reeds, standing equidistant from each other before my hut, and reach even to my bed. And these regular intervals of light suggest a musical instrument to me—the reed-pipe of the ancients, which was familiar to the Maori, and is called vivo by them. The moon and the bamboo reeds made it assume an exaggerated form—an instrument that remained silent throughout the day, but that at night by grace of the moon calls forth in the memory of the dreamer well-loved melodies. Under this music I fell asleep.

Between me and the sky there was nothing except the high frail roof of pandanus leaves, where the lizards have their nests.

I am far, far away from the prisons that European houses are.

A Maori hut does not separate man from life, from space, from the infinite. . . .

In many ways, I can relate to Gauguin. Viewing houses as prisons sounds dramatic but he’s onto something there. When I stayed in a modern villa in Costa Rica earlier this year, I was resentful of the fact that at night I was cut off from the stars and night sounds. Patio lights used for security blocked out the night sky and the steady hum of air conditioning units prevented me from hearing anything wild. Well, except for the mysterious tapping on the glass of my bedroom patio door every night just as I was drifting off to sleep... (After a few nights of fearfully listening from my bed, I eventually and bravely switched on a flashlight to reveal a small Halloween crab clicking its claws on the glass!)

Like Gauguin, our domestication repels me. He found a peaceful simplicity in island living that made him feel creative and vibrantly alive. Something in me struggles to break away from conformity but how one accomplishes this completely, I’m still not certain. In the meantime, I’m exploring exciting and different ways of living. Tree houses have become an infatuation of mine. I don’t know anyone personally that lives in a tree house; although, it’s become trendy to vacation in them. For now, maybe that’s a start.

Free Spirit Spheres, Qualicum Beach, Vancouver Island

Treebones Resort, Big Sur, California

TreeHouse People (Takashi Kobayashi), Hokkaido, Japan

Mahinui Na Lani, on the Big Island of Hawaii
Tree house cedar hot tub ♡

Bookstore/Café Yay!

"Tribute" by Linda Johns, acrylic on paper

After returning a movie, I let Hope lead the way home on our bike ride yesterday. Not surprisingly, we ended up at her favourite used bookstore/café. We had rainbow rooibos tea and both of us found a book that we wanted to take home with us.

Finding books in this manner gives me a lot of pleasure. The fact that Hope loves reading as much as I do makes me exceedingly happy. The book I found is called Sharing a Robin’s Life. What an odd and fascinating book! It’s about a woman in Nova Scotia who has a most unusual relationship with a robin that lives with her in her woodland home.

“Tribute” is a painting by the author, Linda Johns (it is included as the frontispiece of the book). Enchanting work! There’s a short Life Network bio on Linda’s astonishing and eccentric life on YouTube, as well.

Oh! Hope’s treasured find was a Peanuts book. It’s a 1966 paperback edition in good condition. The original price was 40 cents! It was marked $3.95, but I asked for a discount and only ended up paying $2.00. Sharing a Robin’s Life was marked for $1.50, which is a steal in my opinion. Only $3.50 for two wonderful books! You can’t beat that.

Girls Rock!

“Chippy Heads West” by Hope Arden, Plasticine

Hope & Chippy

“The Kiss” by Gustav Klimt

There is dew

on these poems in the morning,

and at night a cool breeze may rise from them.

In the winter they are blankets, in the summer a place to swim.

I like talking to you like this. Have you moved

a step closer?

Soon we may be

kissing.

~ Kabir

"Monet for Mom" by Hope Arden, acrylic on canvas

They can be like a sun, words.

They can do for the heart

what light can

for a field.

~ St. John of the Cross

The ability to simplify
means to eliminate
the unnecessary
so that the necessary
may speak.

~ Hans Hofmann

“She Fled Him” by Gennifer Ciavarra, pen, ink, watercolour, and crayon on paper

There are unknown forces within nature; when we 
give ourselves wholly to her, without reserve, 
she leads them to us; she shows us those forms 
which our watching eyes do not see, which our 
intelligence does not understand or suspect.

~ Auguste Rodin

I See Colours

“I See Colours of the Sky” by Hope Arden, watercolour on paper towel

 

My four-year-old daughter asked recently, “Am I a real artist?” To which I thoughtfully replied, “Yes, yes you are.” Picasso once said, “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once [s]he grows up.” As adults we often feel uninspired. As though all creativity has left us, but that is never true. Creativity is just a breath away. We need only be still for it to arise. The key is to get out of your head and let your heart guide you.