Angels Around Town


We may not be able to change much of what we get in life–where and when we were born, certain innate talents and physical attributes, but we have the choice at every moment what we will create with what we have been given.
Will we create beauty and happiness where we can? The point of the yoga practices, I think and have been taught, is to lead us to choose what best serves more and more often.
For example, I cannot create a monumental sculpture if the only art material I have is a point and shoot camera. I could do nothing but lament my lack of resources, or I can still make art.
What do you choose with what you have?

Capitol grounds, Day 1 Kavanaugh hearings
Friday, when I was traveling through New York City on my way home from a business trip, I detoured to the Metropolitan to see the Walker Evans’ postcards and the Bonnard, Late Interiors. The curator chose this quote to inform the viewing of the paintings: “Material concerns and worries about the future are troubling me a lot, and I’m afraid that painting may abandon me because of a lack of mental freedom.” Pierre Bonnard to Henri Matisse, September 1940.
The quote made me think of the yoga principles of ardha, kama, dharma, moksha. In classical yoga, in order to reach liberation (moksha), we need to have our material life — how we eat, consume, dwell, etc. (ardha), our love and relationships (kama), and our work/life path (dharma), in right order. From a tantric perspective, when ardha, kama, and dharma are aligned so that mind, body, and spirit are united in our day to day being, then we are living liberated — jivan mukti (moksha).
In 1940, the Nazis were growing in power and World War II was impending. Bonnard had lost his love, Marthe, was ill and aging, and was in some financial difficulty. He was afraid of losing his vision, his creativity (dare I interpret “painting may abandon me” as “loss of connection to spirit”) because ardha and kama were out of alignment. The late paintings carry a sense of yearning of spirit — perhaps because of the consciousness that struggling physically and emotionally challenges our ability to truly see, to feel connected to spirit. The paintings are lovely with color and light. The subject matter makes them accessible at a surface level. Shadowy figures and ambiguities, though, give a sense of longing and seeking. Although there is a certain basic prettiness because of the color and the subject matter, they are not comfort paintings. They invite one to think about whether color is enough, whether home is enough, what we need to be in a place where we can rest at one with ourselves.
Goddess of the unfolding of our deepest desires (of the subconscious). So I was told. At the Tillai Kali Temple outside of Chidambaram.
After hours of document drafting and emails and phone conferences today (with the pleasurable interlude of a walk to Eastern Market for celery, Russian pumpernickel, and a ripe avocado), I found myself wanting to remind myself that I have been some times some where other.