A Blank Page & A Blank Mind
At the start of anything new there is a moment when nothing has yet happened, nothing has yet been decided, nothing has yet been started. Somehow a beginning has to occur.
Every creative process has a beginning. And many of those beginnings offer a blank page, whether it is on screen, in a pad, on a canvas, an open book, a single sheet of paper or maybe a painting card. A moment arrives when the creator faces that blank page.
It may be that they already have an idea. Perhaps they have already been imaging, planning and preparing for this moment. On the other hand, they may have no idea other than the wish to begin something new.
Beginning demands one thing in common, across all creative actions. The blank page must be lost. It may be with the marks of a pen. It might be a brush stroke. It may be finger tips connecting and pressing keys that magically transform into changes on the screen in front of them. It could be an iron covered in molten wax. No matter what, there is soon no longer going to be a blank page to face. A moment of commitment occurs, the pure is dirtied with something other than that original blank emptiness.
Today, as I sit here, looking into the screen which reflects my actions, the mirror of my creation, I wonder how it feels for others who must do the same.
Every creation has a beginning.
But where do ideas come from?
Are they really ours, or do we come across them, find them, engage with them or possess them. Where were they before we even noticed them? Are they really ours at all?
In this day and age, there are many ways to find ideas, so I searched about on the web and found this little quote.
Interesting. But is it true?
When we create, we add something to the outer world. We increase the content and make that creation available to others. In a way we are sharing our inner potentials in an outer manner.
But at the same time, we are losing the shape we had been and becoming something else. The act of creation is altering the reality in which we are making this creation. There are repercussions and effects. Sometimes these are personal, but sometimes they can alter the reality of others in powerful ways too.
Ideas come and go, history teaches us that. The reality we call “real” is itself an ever changing mixture of creation, of living, of ageing and of dying. Each part is vital in the evolution of the ongoing creation. What is normal, what is fashionable, what is acceptable all changes. Life melts into new realities.
And that’s what I love about working with wax and heat. The encaustic art process puts all these things into an almost instant experience. The blank card becomes a reflective mirror. Even one first stroke of that iron covered in colours may reveal an astounding vision. Or it may invoke an idea, something we had not had to think of but rather something we discover or notice as we work.
I don’t know where ideas come from, but I know that using encaustic art helps me encounter more of them and the creations discovered affect reality.