Masterworks Series: La Danseuse Au Bouquet

Distractions

“Lady would you kindly remove your hat?”

Was a line

From comedy routines

And the admonition of slides in movie theaters

Back in the early days of motion pictures.

“We all paid our money, we came to see the show.”

But then there are those
Who came to be see 
And be seen.
As I sit in the audience,

The lady’s fan

And dangling earring

Distract my eye from the beauty and grace

Of the dancer on stage.

We all bring our own diversions

To the stage of life,

Creating a visual collage

And a cacophonous din,

Distracting us from the main event.

Consequently, 
Life

Is only partially seen

In quiet moments

And in those rare times

When seeing beyond the distractions

We catch a glimpse

      of the grace, 
             form,

                    and movement

                            of the dance.

And the dance is a wondrous thing

Even if seen only fleetingly.

Our essence,
And our true connection, is found

In that series of rare moments

When we can look past the commotion
To the center.

Those are the luminous times

When distractions fade briefly from sight

To reveal the dance

Of the universe.

                                                 ~ CK

_________________________________
Image: The Ballet (Danseuse au Bouquet) at the Rhode Island School of Design
Artist: Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917)
Medium:Pastel and gouache over monotype on paper
Date: 1878



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Any Tree That Falls: why creative people must create

Any Tree That Falls

There’s that old Zen riddle that we’ve all heard

“If a tree falls in the forest,

                and no one is there to hear,

            Does it make a sound?”

            I only lately came to some understanding.

            There is a writer’s workshop

            (it happens somewhere on any given weekend)

            Led by some accomplished poets and novelists.

            All in attendance are writers

            Most have never been published

            Most are unknown

            Except to a small circle of friends.

            Any published writer

            Evokes both admiration and envy

            From the many poets and writers

            Who create without recognition.

            In every city

            In every town

            People gather to make music.

            They sing

            They play their instruments

            In living rooms

            In church basements

            In garages.

            By the way,

            The answer to that riddle is “Yes!”

            The answer is always yes.

            Wherever there is life,

            The answer is yes.

            Any expression of art

            Says yes.

            Your contribution is important

            Your voice is heard.

            Your words are significant.

            For every poet, we say yes.

            For every singer, we say yes.

            For every dancer, every artist,

               every musician, we say yes.

            Even if there is no book,

               no recording contract,

               no public recognition,

            We say yes.

For every tree in the forest,

            Every movement,

            Every rustle,

            As long as there is life,

            We say yes.

            Whether you sing in the shower

            Or at the New York Met,

            The answer is yes.

            Whether you write for The New York Times

            For Harper and Row

            For your family

            Or just for yourself,

            The answer is yes.

            Whether you dance for the Bolshoi

            Or to the radio in your living room,

            Your movement

            Your celebration

            Your voice

            Your words make a difference

            And the answer is always yes.

            Charles Kinnaird

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