Meditation 1: Art as Meditation

Louise Bourgeois, French-American artist who died in 2010 at the age of 98 once said “art is a guaranty of sanity”, mirroring her words, visually and viscerally, through her impactful work. She went on to add that it was “the most important thing” she had ever said. For Bourgeois, art—making art—was a tool for coping with overwhelming emotion. She says she remembers making small sculptures out of bread crumbs at the dinner table when she was a little girl—a means to an end—as a way of dealing with her dominating father. Art was more than an escape. It kept her sane, “transformed hate into love.”

Many of us, whether self-proclaimed artists or not, would agree first-hand (if not as by-passers, art-lovers, etc.) that art-making holds a certain… cathartic promise. That is, a purging of heightened emotions only possible through creative processes, if we are to believe the great Greek philosophers; poetry in light of tragedy, tragedy being the highest form of poetry, as classically put by Aristotle.

Centuries later, there’s a truth that still stands about the equilibrium between art and soul. Being creative has nowadays been scientifically proven to have long lasting effects on mind-body. In this vein, numerous are the clinical studies that confirm how artistic activity improves quality of life regardless of age, gender, culture, and context — malady or not.

In further dissecting art-making in parallel to meditation, it seems both share a similar arc in that they require a willingness to engage as much as an attempt to let go. The power they share as experiences seems rooted in the ability to ground and observe the world through the senses (tune them), staying present (in the now), whilst open to that which arises and passes in cycles. A going with the flow, much like waves.

I proposed (and still do) that the creative act involved in artistic expression is yet another way to access a “meditative state” — a cultivation of awareness — while silencing the chatter that otherwise acts as a default mode for the untrained, “agitated” mind, like “a fish out of water”, as expressed in Eastern philosophy, prone to obsessive thinking. This particular trait, tied to the specificity of verbal language, is a human denominator we all recognize in ourselves in varying degrees. Overthinking as addiction — individually, collectively — aggravated by social media and the visual overload that infiltrates our lives, is undoubtedly a mark of our time, out of our hands. The degree to which it affects us is largely unknown, though the consequences are beginning to be measured in younger generations for whom the virtual world is just as “real”, blurring that ever-ambiguous line with what’s “fake”. A resurgent, philosophical question, always at its height.

In light of the frenzy that surrounds us today (placed on the side of media and over-identification to image as surface — its narcissistic pull), meditation sounds ideal, even necessary, as it allows for a release by way of a softening of thoughts supported by an unattached mind, unearthing a sensory-led experience. It’s an escape from within, not unlike creative activity. This is not to say meditation, or art, for that matter, come easily. Some would call them too difficult, justified by lack of interest, talent, or time; a viscous cycle around the impossibility of “making the time”. And there’s a discipline to be had, for sure, as in any endeavor that calls for our energy. “A discipline for passion,” Lady Gaga once said as she accepted an award. As such, both meditation and art-making command mental space, urging a commitment to carve out moments from the hustle and bustle, slow down as we inquire with humility and renewed interest into the very essence of our self.

Is creativity inherent to self?

Creativity would seem to have a binding effect for self. For D.W. Winnicott, English psychoanalyst: “it is only in being creative that the individual discovers the [true] self.”. Which reminds me of what Richard Tuttle, contemporary artist, once said about the only art that is truly remembered being that which informs us on the true nature of self; “good art is endless”, he stated. This, in turn, echoes what many artists say as they speak of the unexpected shape their art has taken. An interesting example is Linda Goode Bryant, artist and founder of the Just Above Midtown (JAM) gallery in New York, active in the mid 70’s-80’s, showcasing African American artists and other artists of color, typically excluded from the gallery circuit. It was a place of experimentation, a self-proclaimed “laboratory” that fostered connection and community through boundless self-expression. A place to tap into “our innate ability to use what we have, to create what we need.” Today Linda Goode Bryant is devoted to her Project EATS; a sustainable urban farming community in NYC. “That’s my art now… feeding people” she says, highlighting the important social and humane aspects to art, secondary to its “shiny” aesthetic value. There’s an expanded view of self at the heart.

The creative act that drives art-making has as much to do with personal output as it does with shared space. If not for its inclusive quality, we may say art has no shape in and of itself — it’s lifeless. The meaning we attach to it is formed in contact with oneself as it extends to others and back, forming loops within and without. This is how culture is woven — loop by loop — and, inversely, unraveled at the seams. Thus, art, with its intimate weaving, needles the very cloth of what it means to be human. For Aristotle, art is, in fact, the most viable means of revealing universal truths, its depths impervious to change, contrary to history and its unstable narrative, subject to power alignments.

In this sense, being creative is a profoundly reflective state that underlies story-telling as it unfolds in a continuum and points to a place of stillness, likening it to a form of meditation and vice-versa.

Art as meditation: Meditation as art.

I had mentioned in closing in my original article that towards the end of her life, Louise Bourgeois, when asked to comment on her extensive body of work spanning her entire lifetime, said that what impresses her most was “how constant [I] have been,” as if guided by an inner compass. She went on to add that the capacity to be in touch with the unconscious mind as source, was “a privilege of the artist… a gift… the definition of sanity… of self-realization.”

Creativity as an anchor for self.

“Art is as essential as air and water and food. It is for our soul, that thing that connects us universally.” (Goode Bryant). When we are open to a change in perspective, meditation — a fundamentally creative act — can enhance our feeling of oneness, freeing us of strict physicality and the illusion of a divisive reality.

Optimistically, there seems to be a renewed hype around meditation as if deep down we know that the plunge towards that to which we are inextricably intertwined is a foray into our creative nature, the core of existence. It would be a shame to pass on this “otherworldly” adventure.

So, if you still can’t meditate, try art…