Hi Harneek! Thank you so much for your wonderful, heartening comment. Yes the questions are the thing, someone shared a quote with me recently about ‘learning to love the questions.’ Can’t remember who said that. Solving, or attempting to solve them is fun, and at the same time contains the frustration of trying to square the circle. My fear book has been relegated to the status of: abandoned first draft. It helped me show up here on Substack, the background workings, the sluice pile. But, hmm, maybe I need to go find it. Yes, poems are like necessary paintings, they give space and expression for emotion, and help us see what needs seeing. Thank you again.
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
Thanks Kirstie. I love your insight that maybe confidence is a form of self-trust. And I love that you arrive at this by mulling things over, rather than by some sort of aggressive pursuit. Maybe the process of mulling involves trust, self-trust as well. The question will talk to you, if you just leave it alone, all the while paying quiet attention. Kind of like the dogs. Trust working both ways. Wonderful image of you in the wilds, and then, yay, the dog. Fabulous. Thank you for the painting and the exquisite, profound little poem.
Dear Carolyn, yes, I think you're right, mulling is a form of self-trust, I hadn't considered that! At some point an answer of sorts reveals itself. I keep thinking about the incredible work of Lynda Barry in her book 'Syllabus.' Again and again she encourages us to draw, not to draw, but to see what's there. Drawing is a kind of stripping away, the hand is slow, the eye slows down to a few pure moments of attention. One line, another line. Attention is a form of trust?
I'm so thrilled you like the little poem. Thank you.
Another thought-provoking weaving, dear Kirstie. I love that in your invitation to self to 'feel-it', you painted shame, anger, rage, guilt, fear, fear, fear. You painted gratitude. You painted prayers, an open form of unknowing. The 'open form of unknowing' feels like a point of arrival - a place of deep being - in and of itself. Thank you x
I love reading this Kirstie. I loved how you explained with every question we asked, there is something inside us we are trying to solve. I love the idea of making a painting with every emotion we are feeling. I have written poems on different emotion I have felt like my sadness, grief, anxiety, sensitivity etc. Is your book on fear already published? Would love to read it.💚💚
Hi Harneek! Thank you so much for your wonderful, heartening comment. Yes the questions are the thing, someone shared a quote with me recently about ‘learning to love the questions.’ Can’t remember who said that. Solving, or attempting to solve them is fun, and at the same time contains the frustration of trying to square the circle. My fear book has been relegated to the status of: abandoned first draft. It helped me show up here on Substack, the background workings, the sluice pile. But, hmm, maybe I need to go find it. Yes, poems are like necessary paintings, they give space and expression for emotion, and help us see what needs seeing. Thank you again.
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
💛
Thank you Claire, Rilke of course! This quote is a guiding light.
Thanks Kirstie. I love your insight that maybe confidence is a form of self-trust. And I love that you arrive at this by mulling things over, rather than by some sort of aggressive pursuit. Maybe the process of mulling involves trust, self-trust as well. The question will talk to you, if you just leave it alone, all the while paying quiet attention. Kind of like the dogs. Trust working both ways. Wonderful image of you in the wilds, and then, yay, the dog. Fabulous. Thank you for the painting and the exquisite, profound little poem.
Dear Carolyn, yes, I think you're right, mulling is a form of self-trust, I hadn't considered that! At some point an answer of sorts reveals itself. I keep thinking about the incredible work of Lynda Barry in her book 'Syllabus.' Again and again she encourages us to draw, not to draw, but to see what's there. Drawing is a kind of stripping away, the hand is slow, the eye slows down to a few pure moments of attention. One line, another line. Attention is a form of trust?
I'm so thrilled you like the little poem. Thank you.
Another thought-provoking weaving, dear Kirstie. I love that in your invitation to self to 'feel-it', you painted shame, anger, rage, guilt, fear, fear, fear. You painted gratitude. You painted prayers, an open form of unknowing. The 'open form of unknowing' feels like a point of arrival - a place of deep being - in and of itself. Thank you x
Yes, a point of arrival. Thank you Claire. You are an absolute inspiration.
I love reading this Kirstie. I loved how you explained with every question we asked, there is something inside us we are trying to solve. I love the idea of making a painting with every emotion we are feeling. I have written poems on different emotion I have felt like my sadness, grief, anxiety, sensitivity etc. Is your book on fear already published? Would love to read it.💚💚
And! Thank you for your re-stack of my post. I really appreciate your support for my work 💛💛💛.