If I had one word to describe my
dream studio it would be sanctuary.
Sanctuary calls forth the notion of preserve and reserve, both referring to
protecting and/or storing. My most valuable possessions are kept in my studio,
inspirational resources and the raw materials for art making. My studio also
houses finished pieces, as well as those works in progress, the pieces most
alive in my being right now.
More important than the space
however, is how the studio functions. Sanctuary also means to consecrate,
sanctify or dedicate which is getting closer to what my studio is for me. How
do you sanctify a corrugated tin industrial hanger with 30 foot high ceiling and
a stained uneven cement floor? Luckily my twelve years of living and working
through various apprenticeships in Japan gives me a sense of where to start. I
start with the floor.
The aspect of the studio that
maintains sanctuary is the mindset of mindfulness. Getting out of the habitual
mind requires a quieting of the internal chatter in order to connect to deeper
wisdom of the body and heart. Mindfulness is a particular kind of meditative
attention, which in the studio engages authenticity, spontaneity and
reflection. In production work in Japan, in a ceramic studio, kimono dyeing
factory or a paper making village, mindfulness is an essential discipline which
is easy to track by how carefully you use the work space and handle materials.
I have not lived in Japan since the
eighties, but it continually creeps into my dreams, paintings, conversations
and greatly influences how Studio Anavami functions. I originally went to
Daitokuji Zen temple complex in Kyoto to study Buddhist Art for a couple of
months. Whenever I was sure it was time to leave I would find some new and enticing
to study or unusual opportunity. While I was there I continued to practice
several of the Zen arts including tea ceremony, calligraphy and sumi-e. I also lived in the countryside
for several years as an apprentice in ceramics and I worked in a papermaking
village, where I pounded kuzo fiber
with a wooden mallet sitting in a river. In those days even for a foreigner the
first six months of an apprenticeship you swept the floor and made tea, while
learning how to pay attention. Paying
attention, ends up being the heart of creative work.
My introduction to the Japanese
cultural arts has been the counter point I needed to discover my relationship
to the creative process. It continues to be an on-going investigation expressed
in my own work and the workshops and retreats that I offer. Studio Anavami
expresses a range of activities and events including, talks, book signings and
collaborations with martial artists, dancers, astrologers, Qabbalist, healers
as well as creative process circles, workshops and retreats in Italy and Ghost
Ranch, New Mexico.
I have tried several different ways
of working my studio space, but the carpet with no shoes works best. Somehow
the constant interaction to the ground alters my relationship to my mind and
body and the creative process. I am stretched out on the carpet now with the
sun shining in the west door with an ocean breeze coming in the rollup door to
the south. It may sound eccentric to have pristine carpet in a painting studio,
but it creates sanctuary and I love it.
Majio