I came across this video today, while researching links to forward along in follow up to a long conversation yesterday, in which the brilliance of Anne Carson was needed to be shared.
I sat in an artist’s transitioning space, talking about, well, transitions. She was morphing, and time, for her, was moving slower than usual. This led to the usual conversation had in such situations, regarding mantras, visualizing, and other such things we find ourselves talking about. This artist is a new believer in saying mantras forty times for forty days. This is something she read somewhere. If you miss one day, you have to start over. This is harder than you might believe.
When she first introduced me to the concept, I wrote out four mantras. Said them forty times, and then hit the road for a bit and lost the practice. Slightly over a week later, I returned to the written mantras. Three of them - major things I had felt quite large mountains to move, just a week prior - had already come true.
So there is also the discussion of specification. Defining interests and destinations. But how specific and when is what known? How to be specific in movement forward, while open to the shifts. Sometimes the form is not known.
As the artist spoke of unknown forms and how to move in their direction, I shot up to find a particular Anne Carson quote:
“The form hasn’t emerged yet of the thing I’m working on.”
Anne said this casually once in a conversation, and I scrawled it down and placed it somewhere I would regularly see. For over a year the phrase held me completely. There was something brewing, the exact form of what I was not yet sure. The quote has been in my head as I recently returned to where it was written - and suddenly, for the first time since I wrote those words down, it didn’t fully apply. I had experienced the form rising into light in clarity and perfectness beyond what I could have specified while walking towards it. And once that vision became clear and embraced, it all fell into my lap like magic. Magic in the form of every thought becoming real. People and doors and opportunities and support, down to exquisite detail, rising to meet me. Down to realizing: Damn, this is exactly what I need to do, but how can I possible afford to do it? And three hours later sitting on a kitchen floor, opening old mail, and with the ripped opening of one letter was notified that some magic money had been looking for me for years, and would like to enter my bank account asap, and make everything I believed necessary suddenly possible. The world blown open in three hours of thinking: This has to happen; somehow this will happen. I did not specify a letter in the mail, nor an amount, or form. I left that vague. It has already worked itself out, beyond form I could have imagined.
Whatever the magic of this emergence of forms and visioning is, I think Anne Carson’s approach to the world plays a part in exploring it. Beyond set choice of genre. Expanding definitions. You can see her working through that in this above piece.
So while watching it and having my mind go into various places, a new list emerged to the soundtrack of these words. When I hit play on the video, my mind was thinking about many things, none of them happened to be home decorating. And yet, crisp and in a clarity you aren’t aware you were even searching for, forms of what you’re working on sometimes emerge. I’m learning it’s best to just go with them when they come beckoning, or welcoming, as the case may be.
Deep (but bright) turquoise walls.
Red: Maybe curtains, but definitely hanging in light fabric, from various points of the ceiling, near corners.
Couch: purple, perhaps velvet, definitely textured
Choice of rug: The yellow, orange, red, and purple Taos, NM magical carpet
Additions: Fresh flowers + music
Creating a physical space that embodies the definition of this rolling with, and trusting, emerging forms. Watching prior visions fit together in a puzzle you didn’t know you had been piecing together. It seems, right now, as if even the shades of light are all in synchronicity. The forms of whatall we all are working on, emerging, at their own pace. I trust it.