Crouching at a run I clamor across the studio at an undignified tilt in pursuit of a skittering lizard barely the length of my thumb. He has been in the studio for several days giving me the slip whenever I attempt capture.
I then remembered how
my brother Michael could catch anything-frog, beetle, horny toad, snake, even
flies by pouncing on them immediately, never giving his prey a chance to feel
pursued.
That brown prickly lizard is suddenly in my hand.
Michael’s eye was as quick as his hand. Big gentle hands that could miraculously twist tiny wires on an earring in the bat of an eye. Michael knew the combination of ferocious pursuit with gentle capture.
Michael’s eye was as quick as his hand. Big gentle hands that could miraculously twist tiny wires on an earring in the bat of an eye. Michael knew the combination of ferocious pursuit with gentle capture.
The Lizard is out, then in again. In the cage of my hand I
feel the little guy’s rough hide on my skin trying every crack of light for
exit.
I can’t let this lizard live here in
my studio. Beside the question of enough to eat and drink, I almost set a
bucket of gesso on him. No, he needs to be outside with all the other little
guys darting through the potted plants. But when I take him outside into the
sun, he won’t leave my hand. He starts up my arm into the sleeve of my paint
shirt reminding me of the time I watched a bee crawl all over my brightly
painted toenails, testing my resolution when he started backing into the space
between my toes before he finally flew off. This time there is much less peril.
We play the hand is faster than the eye trick to keep him out in the open, but
he is not willing to return to civilian life. He sits for a long time
listening, in lizard time. Then suddenly he is gone. I am left with the image
of the last of the Ten Ox Herding Pictures-an empty circle.
This time, who knows why, I am changed by the encounter with
the lizard. Like the tracks of the Ox that invite pursuit, if the call is not
answered the tracks get cold and are lost. The Artifacts of Direction
Realization are the marks, tracings, inklings of what is possible.
In the first frame of the Pictures the Ox Herder begins the
adventure by calling forth the Ox. For me this step comes before collecting my
pieces and sorting through the collections of other people’s artifacts. It is realizing that moments of lucidity
exist. In the next frame, evidence of the Ox appears. Be it Alice’s rabbit, my
brother’s creepy crawlies or my lizard we make room with inquiry for the
journey to begin.
The third picture depiction suggests engagement---be it with
frog, crow, dragonfly, lizard or inanimate objects like a doorknob, a trinket,
a missing object—activating our illusion of separation to move the adventure
along. When the Ox appears, it is usually the back end. The determined, grab
the tail, messy end of the mind. From there we often find our self suddenly in
the heart of a rodeo that can last a long time, even a lifetime.
That approach does not work to bring realization; brute force
does not beguile the mind. The transformation comes when the struggle is
released-in the Ox Herding Picture or through the arts. Sitting atop the ox,
the herder plays the flute and creates another relationship to the
Ox/Mind. The herder returns not in
dominance but union. The last picture depicts no ox, no ox herder, no flute,
some would say it is the return to original nothingness.
We did not get an owner’s manual on entry into this world.
Whether the Ox Herding Picture Instructions have caught up with us or not we
have all been graced with moments of realization that suggest a state, a way of
being in the world that differs from how we usually do life. I look at this as
our birthright and evolutionary imperative.
It has led me to begin a collection of artifacts from all over the
world, from other times and cultures which represent these universal events.
I put together five trays of artifacts, some donated from
other’s collections. Three of these trays are now been exhibited at the 12 X 12 Show at Cabrillo Gallery until
mid-December 2016. This is the statement for the trays:
In Artifacts of Direct Realization, each
of the component artifacts represents its own unique experience, as well as a
stratigraphic and archaeological relationship to the others. Each also
represents a partial, momentary, lasting or recurring historical experience, an
awakening of consciousness. The ‘artisans’ ranged from three to
ninety-five years old, and their products spread over five continents. All
of them have contributed to the trajectory of our collective evolution. These
articles
Some of
these articles you might recognize. They may even come from your life, traces
of the evolutionary edge. We are not trained to search for the Ox, and yet we
come across it throughout our lives. Those of us with a propensity for the
arts, might step into the instructional diagrams daily. The artifacts are subtle
but vital punctuations of everything that you have perceived up until now.
Without a context or witness they slips away. I encourage you to start your
collection; I think that our planet is dying for it. Majio
