We’ve all done it; from childhood to adult underwear or lack thereof…no moment in history can unfold unless there are questions. Questions can be easy, tiring, playful, intriguing, insightful, worth the enormous amount of patience required to finally burp it up and questions can be the only key that fits the door behind the wall next to the mountain near impossibility.
Author Bryon Katie believes the art of locating inner peace at work, at home, an outrageously expensive restaurant or in a car stuck at a never ending bright red traffic light is four questions away from being accepted then forgotten.
In the opening pages of her book Loving What Is, Katie’s description resembles the image in many mirrors; a life overtaken by fear, guilt, stress, depression and whatever else daytime television talk show hosts create in their race to score better ratings.
I’m not gonna waste your time. The four questions are:
Is it true?
Can you absolutely know that it’s true?
How do you react when you think that thought?
Who would you be without that thought?
These aren’t the questions you instantly whip into action during a heated discussion. The challenger could be fueled with the wrong medicine leaving the situation wide open for accusations that tend to sharpen the environment rather than win the chase on a race toward peace.
Four questions you might ask a troubled friend while sharing hot steamy peppermint flavored coffee with an edge of chocolate smiling up at you each time your desire to look great and feel better becomes weak.
Being one that openly admits to having several personalities…I share with you an example while reaching out to Arroe the artist; a painter, acrylic scented brush breathing former gallery loving promoter of free will expressions until a public display in New Orleans in 2009 silenced him forever.
Interviewer: Is it true you’ve allowed a gallery owner's mid-recession fears destroy what came so incredibly easy to you?
The Painter: I kept telling her that my paintings of the bridges in Charleston, SC wouldn’t sell in New Orleans. Southern cities take great pride in the masterpieces men of construction leave behind and if you can’t physically see the bridge painted on the canvas, why in earth would you invest in a painting? Nothing sold for 90 days. She wanted my stuff out and it came with a letter that said, “Maybe you should think about no longer doing this. Having no reaction from my clients is a sign.”
Interviewer: Can you absolutely know that it’s true?
The Painter: Every now and then I pull up the email for no reason other than to locate an LOL or a Ha Ha Ha. I mentioned to her several times that I understood the reasons for the gallery opening two months late. I lowered my prices to help get her business while at the same time offering to send different pieces of art because my heart kept telling me that paintings of Charleston bridges won’t sell in New Orleans but she was completely addicted to the idea that anyone who enjoys structure will buy structure.
Interviewer: How do you react when you think that thought?
The Painter: Angry, sad, silent yet it’s opened the door for me to explore other avenues of expression such as my music. I’ve always written music and believe the only reason why I got into radio is because I was too lazy to chase stages. If New Orleans hadn’t happened I wouldn’t have challenged myself to take the songs beyond a home studio to a real world with real musicians and producers that talk on funky microphones while never uncrossing their arms or smiling at really stale radio jokes.
Interviewer: Is it true you enjoy the music more than painting?
The Painter: Without a doubt. When I’d paint there was always music in the house which invited my doves and other birds to sing with it. I called it my Jazz. The only reason why I started putting paint on canvas was to invite people to my lyrics. It was a trick I shared with other poets and writers at Barnes and Noble where I had them sit in the section of the store where their books would be on display; after twenty minutes I wanted to hear about the store patrons that found interest in that particular section. They came back with empty hearts. That’s when I challenged myself to take ink and stain pages which later grew to a canvas and in doing so I’d write something in the corner. The picture caught the attention of a passerby who then took the time to read my lyrics.
Interviewer: Who would you be without that thought?
The Painter: A closet writer; someone that rushes to feed the addiction of a once living tree that collects words in order to stay alive. My first book was written while in the second grade, it along with thunderous amounts of poetry remain hidden away because I was too shy to put my visions out there.
Interviewer: Think about it…by painting you created a tool that helped pry open a fear of displaying your true art. You allowed something that you liked to serve as the bodyguard while your true love for music and writing books has been on display on web pages all over the world for nearly two years. Sure, the email sent from the gallery owner cracked the egg but it gave birth to a creative outlet, it also reintroduced you to everything tucked away in the closet. There’s no reason to hate, feel bad about or silence. I can’t imagine what other doors will be opened the moment you pick up the brush again. Let it continue to serve you as the tool it was designed to be.
The book is called Loving What is from Byron Katie…
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
No comments:
Post a Comment