This morning I was waiting for the handyman to come take a load of junk out of my garage—left over from the basement flooding a few months ago. Tom was supposed to come between 8:30 and 9, so at 8:30 I sat down in the living room (where I could see his truck coming up the drive), and read more of Ken Wilbur’s One Taste.
I would read a paragraph or two and stop to reflect. Facing me on the opposite wall was an oil painting I did in the early 1970s after having a super vivid inspirational dream about the sun coming up out of the ocean. It was not a sunrise but its actual bursting forth from the waters. Brilliant light coming out of the depths.
Sitting there on the couch, I suddenly realized that this had been a spiritual painting for me. It was not just a representation of what I’d seen in the dream, but a visualization of what I’d felt.
Could this painting—in the present—be an object of spiritual reflection for me?
Ken Wilbur talks about asking the question, “Who am I?” or “Who is looking?” in order to get in touch with the witness who is prior to the little “I” or ego. I have tried asking “Who am I?” and “Who is aware?” in meditation. Sometimes I seem to get a glimpse, but that’s all.
I had never thought about asking, “Who is looking?” or “Who sees?” Yet, for an artist, doesn’t that make perfect sense?
I recently saw the play Red about Mark Rothko’s philosophy toward his art. “Oh yeah,” I realized, “it was guys like him who helped me forge my own belief in the 50s and 60s that art could be transcendent. Something is discovered in the painting process. It is not simply a matter of application of technique. The artist has to let go and give up control in order to find something she hasn’t seen before.
So as I sat on the couch waiting for the handyman, it started to rain. “Shit,” I thought, “will he be able to load his truck in the rain?”
I started to get pissed off, and then I looked down at my Ken Wilbur book and laughed. This time is a gift, I told myself. Use it.
So I read more Ken Wilbur. I stopped and stared at the painting. I asked myself, “Who is looking? Who sees?”
I almost never have time to just sit and reflect. That is, I almost never give myself that time.
This morning the handyman gave me a whole hour. When I finally called him at 9:30, he said he’d forgotten. He’ll come tomorrow.
The painting that was inspired by the dream.
