Nature as Art

When it comes to creativity expressing itself, you just can’t mess with Mother Nature. She’ll win hands down every time. That said, in November at the Center for Spiritual Living (http://www.cslsr.org/), the whole month is devoted to art and creativity. I’m always humbled to be amidst the mysterious and beautiful expressions of art in all its forms. People who may pass anonymously among the throngs all year suddenly hang a watercolor or weaving, place a carving in wood or marble, present a collection of unlikely objects put together to solicit a chuckle or a whisper of awe, or play a piece of music that brings tears to the eyes. Stunning and fantastic jewelry, pottery, quilts, poetry by young and old fill the social hall in a riot of color and texture. The room takes on the crackle and vibration of creative energy.

Toward the end of September each year I feel my body being lulled into the suggestion of winter. I yawn more; I eat more and exercise less. There’s a thickness that begins to settle in my bones and an ache to find my cave and crawl in for the long months ahead. This shot of adrenaline every November jars me out of my stupor and jump starts my own creativity. I pull out my box of clips from magazines and assemble collages on recipe-sized cards, or shop for interesting ingredients to make an exquisite and hefty stew. Those heavy, minor chord songs seem to find their way into my mind and down onto paper during the dark months, or I might take a piece of writing from my own personal slush file and rework it with a concentration that sometimes eludes me in the spring. My favorite thing of course is to fold myself into a comfy chair with a blankey over my lap and read myself into blissful oblivion, cozying up to someone else’s creative expression.