Giving Form

As much as the art ego program that runs in me, fortified through art school and ideas about art that dominate the collective, says that art is about being good at it, it’s not.

Art is about love. Art is about gratitude, and being willing to participate in the process of life that made us. Life is creative, productive, inventive, playful, and makes us so. When we agree to play and see what comes out of our play with forms, with some kind of beauty or esthetic precision as our target, then we become artists.

Some people really devote and dedicate to become especially sensitive and capable in their chosen channel. I love these people so much, and especially when what they have to say resonates too, I am fathomlessly grateful for their hard work - the hardest - and their disciple-ing, their discipline, to bring out the purity.

After decades of messing around in different art channels, I think what moves me most of all is the need to give expression to what I’m holding inside. The process of experiencing human life fills me up with impressions, forms, beauties, complaints, all kinds of things, and then at some point my psyche is full, and it all spills over and out into forms.

Sometimes I have more intention, sometimes I want to try out a medium, sometimes I receive the structure for a project that must be completed, sometimes it’s service, or just a hankering, but all in all it is basically all about love, feeling love for life and collecting things I want to say to life, seeking different languages to find the right one to make the sound of it.

The following song is about this basic wonderful helpless giving in to what comes up from inside me, what springs up and needs to take form. Art wants to grow, has the urge towards life. And that is there, in spite of all the many, many failures at living “the way we’re supposed to” that I have sustained.

My invitation to you:

Reflect on what your own most basic artistic urge seems to be. Why do you make your art? Why do you express yourself in form, or long to, if you’re not active these days? What is this magic impulse in you? How do you feel towards it? Could you have love, regard, kindness for what drives you towards the arts?

with love,

~Holly Mae

You can be right or wrong in that world, you can be out of phase

You can fall off the face of that earth, you can be out of place

You can be right on time to be late, you can come in last place

You can get way off key in that song, and you can fall from grace

I have tried but i wasn't satisfied for long, running my will against dissatisfaction.

I came home now that I'm centuries older, giving form to what's been taking me over.

You can be way off tilt, you can be mismatched parts

You can be misinformed in that world, you can be shattered hearts

And you can get lost in time, you can get left behind

I have tried but i wasn't satisfied for long, running my will against dissatisfaction.

I came home now that I'm centuries older, giving form to what's been taking me over:

Love for the land and its sonorous mysteries