True Nature - a visual blog by Barbara Bash

Guinea Sketchbook / Part Three

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 16 May 2013 21:32:00 +0000

Here are the third group of sketchbook images from my trip last February.
(see Part One and Part Two )

First a map of Conakry, the capital of Guinea, where we spent most of our time.
It doesn't show the incredible density of life that fills this narrow peninsula.

You can see that the house we were staying in was RIGHT NEXT to the airport.
The landing of the big Air France plane each afternoon was something you noticed !
And the new house that Pam and Mimo are having built was along the mangrove waters.
We walked over there often to assess the progress.

Some days we drove into the center of the city to shop, visit friends, and change money.
We traveled along the main Autoroute. Life lined this road fully
and surprised me each time with what was encountered . . .
what was offered through the car windows as we passed by . . .
what struck my eye as unique, or odd, or poignant . . .

The pressure to perform well - in dance class - in the sketchbook - is with me.
I carry it inside and suffer with it.
In this slowed down world of low accomplishment and daily circular tasks,
my worries stand out, tied to this effort. Yet I feel myself drifting - all effort futile. . .
Sitting now with the sadness - and toughness - and beauty of this Guinea world.

On the last day I make watercolor cards and write notes in French to the family, friends,
and teachers I have connected with here.

We have one more dance class and it isn't about perfection - just joy and appreciation and love.
I hand out the cards to everyone and we cry and laugh and sit together, looking out.
While everyone rests before lunch I go out back and paint the big palm tree in the yard.
I'm feeling loose and bold and relaxed.

Here it is - the core strong - the fronds dancing - moving - alive.

On the way to the airport we pass small clusters of people - men, women, children -
just sitting together quietly - looking out . . .

And here we are - the Guinea women - all of us !

Mariama Djeli Kany me Mayeni Mary Djeli Guinee Pam Dorothy

Guinea Sketchbook / Part Two

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 01:41:00 +0000

A lot of our time was spent within the compound walls
(see Guinea Sketchbook / Part One ).
Our dance classes happened there, friends came to us,
and political unrest in the city kept us sequestered some days . . .

When we did venture out in the car I carried a small notepad with me
to catch the images passing by as we hurtled along,
searching for moments of interest. . . surprise. . . beauty . . .

Later I'd redraw the images in my larger sketchbook and add some color.
Although this allowed lots of harvesting "on the fly" I missed the directness
of the sketchbook capture and felt a bit tight and careful in the re-drawing process.

Here are the pages created from our day trip inland to Kindia Falls
with the names of the villages we passed weaving through . . .

After three hours on the road we arrived at the Falls - a cool, fresh and quiet place . . .
I felt rejuvenated by the hugeness of it all - the long cascade of water -
the butterflies flitting around . . .
I sat right down and dove into a large sketchbook double spread .
(click on the image to enlarge)

I picked up a big beautiful leaf as we walked away,
carrying it carefully on my lap in the car all the way back.

We drove to the Palais des Peuples the next morning
and sat for four hours through an endless series of speeches.
It was the Coalition de les Femmes et Filles de Guinee pour
Dialogue et Conciliation de la Paix et Development -
a thousand women gathered to raise their voices in response
to the political deadlock in the country.

It was very warm in the auditorium.

We had come to hear our teacher, Djeli Guinee, sing to the crowd.
Turned out she was last on the program !

I passed the hours collecting the headscarf creations all around me . . .

Feeling both the beauty and the discomfort of this place -
stretching my soul . . .

Part Three of the story coming soon . . .

Guinea Sketchbook / Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 13:57:00 +0000

This February I spent three weeks in Guinea, West Africa
dancing, sketching and sweating - it was over 90 degrees every day !

I had traveled to Guinea ten years before in 2003
with my dance teachers Pam and Mimo Camara.
Mimo had been a principal dancer for twenty years with Les Ballets Africains -
the National Dance Ensemble of Guinea - which toured the world.
The teachers we would be studying with now were old friends of Mimo
and longtime dancers with the Ballet.

We stayed in a house on the edge of Conakry, the capital.
It was walled and gated. Because of the intensity of the city,
and the political protests going on intermittently,
we sometimes stayed in the compound all day -
dance teachers and friends coming to us.

So the sketchbook begins with what was close at hand in our enclosed world,
surrounded by the sound of roosters crowing, the call to prayer,
footsteps and soft voices passing by beyond the gate-
here is what I saw within these walls . . .

Here is the constellation of Mimo's family and friends
that I came to know and love -

The dances we were learning were complex,
yet I was energized by them, my body felt light and lithe.
I created a pictographic language to help me remember the steps.
Here is the Harvest Dance done holding the round flat baskets used for cleaning rice.

I mapped which areas of Guinea the dances we were learning came from . . .

And here is a clip of our teachers -
Djeli Kany, Mayeni and Djeli Guinee singing to us . . .

More to come !

An Afternoon at the Rubin Museum

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 13:41:00 +0000

I wander through an exhibit of exquisitely tiny sculptures -
Casting the Divine : The Nyingjei Lam Collection -
and settle first on a figure from Tibet, 16th century -
Sachen Kunga Nyingpo, an early teacher of the Sakya School.
Three inches high . . .

Then turn towards the Enthroned Vajrasattva -
Purifier of Karma, Bringer of Peace - Tibet, 14th century.
Minute and so complex, encircled with creatures -
Garuda lording over the top, beast guardians, snakes
and little humans holding on to the sides . . .

Now I gaze on the two tiny Chitipati figures - Tibet 14th century.
Lords of the charnel ground - grinning and dancing - heads cocked,
holding those skullcups . . .

Ending with Green Tara, 11th century NE India.
The Female Buddha of Enlightend Activity.
I draw slower now, feeling my way into her small and gorgeous shapes,
held in an intimate way . . .

Three Moments in December

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 23:05:00 +0000

Tuesday the 11th -

I stepped outside this morning
and heard birds crying faintly far overhead.
Looking up I saw a flock of tiny white shapes
glittering together - and apart - calling out -
a breathing moving shifting form . . .

Thursday the 13th

Sunday the 16th -

after the news from Newtown . . .

A New True Nature !

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Sun, 25 Nov 2012 18:04:00 +0000

This time last year I was creating the art for the new edition of my book
True Nature : An Illustrated Journal of Four Seasons in Solitude.

Now it has been published in paperback
with sixteen pages added at the end.

In these new pages I offer a way to step through the veil of fear
that can surround art making. . .

Starting with the ease and attentive eye of blind contour drawing -
then letting words arise nearby . . .

Adding a touch of color to the drawing -

Then going for the full process - beginning, middle and end -
guided by the ancient principles of Heaven, Earth and Human . . .

First is the heaven object - expressing the space - simple and vertical - a winter tree.

Then comes Earth - counterbalancing along the ground - lively and textured - the wild vine.

And now Human - a detail - coming in close - the patch of moss at my feet.

Letting words arise in relation to each brings forth the insight . . .

In the end it's more about what we choose to draw

and what that tells us about ourselves - mysterious and close . . .

Read more about True Nature here

Order a copy

Come to a book signing !

Finding the way

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 13:32:00 +0000

into the new season -

into the sketchbook.

Before the fields are mowed down

before the rain begins

I walk out with pencil in hand

and draw . . .

The Dance of Light & Dark

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Mon, 07 May 2012 00:30:00 +0000

Fourth day in the Ellora caves.
I'm warmed up and ready for the full encounter.
I step into Cave 15 . . .

A series of large sculptural panels line the walls.
I walk towards a dyad showing the moment Narasimha - the lion-man avatara of Vishnu -
springs out from a pillar to engage the cruel demon Hiranyakashipu in battle.

I sit down and drawn Alice Boner's Space Division grid on the page,
showing the central focus with radiating lines of energy.

Alice Boner was a Swiss sculptor and painter who lived in India from 1938 to 1978.
Over these years she explored the Ellora caves for months at a time,
drawing and contemplating the sculpture.
One day she began to see an underlying pattern of geometry beneath the forms.
Describing this moment in her journal she wrote, " I felt that here might be
the clue to the mystery that lay hidden below the surface."

Alice Boner's grid gives me some spatial orientation
as I jump into the full battle dance scene,
my pencil and brush moving quickly on the page.
Curious onlookers gather around me . . .

The lion/man-god is gentle, graceful, full of love.
He smiles as he fights and one of his hands rests lightly on his enemy's shoulder.
The demon dances towards death, also smiling, ecstatic, ethereal.
Through engaging with the god, the worst of murderers is released from his sins
and grateful, his horrendous acts forgiven and cleansed.

I finish the drawing - feeling energized by the image.

I walk over to another large panel scene on the other side of the cave.
This is the god Shiva slaying Kali, in her skeletal haggard dying form.

First the grid goes down on the page -
this one shows the diagonal elements of Time,
the way the figures are moving in the space.

I begin softly with pencil, feeling tentative and uncertain of my ability
to be in conversation with these powerful forms.

A young man watches me quietly and then asks,
"What is your purpose in drawing like this? "
His question is so simple and deep and I light up.
"When I draw I understand the world in a deeper way.
Drawing brings me into to another level of perception. "
He is listening closely.
"Is it the supernatural you are connecting with? "
"I don't know about that. I just feel something settles and focuses
and I trust this place inside me. "

But this time, as I work on, I feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the image -
Shiva is so triumphant and dispassionate,
Kali so horribly deformed, dreadful, collapsing.

A father and his two daughters watch me draw.
Their presence is gentle and calming.
The man points out that I have forgotten to add the restored form of Kali.
I look again and notice now a smaller peaceful female figure on the right side of the panel -
Parvati seated on a lotus.
She is watching it all and waiting.
As something dies there is the promise of a new world.
I add her into the drawing.
Now there is a still point in the chaos where I can settle
and let it all swirl around me.

I end the day with Ganesh - the Elephant-Headed One - the Great Dispeller of Obstacles.
Some of his hands have been broken off.
When I need to know what he is holding I ask anyone in the crowd gathered around me.
They all know the answer !

Here I am at Ellora . . .

And here is a short cave concert by Steve Gorn !

In Service

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 21:50:00 +0000

Back at the Ellora caves . . .

(for the beginning of the story see previous posts -
http://barbarabash.blogspot.com/2012/02/drawing-in-caves_25.html
http://barbarabash.blogspot.com/2012/03/in-ajanta.html

I notice I'm not ready to take on the "big guys" -
the dynamic gods and enormous seated buddhas.
Instead I focus in on the attendants, the guardians,
the helpers . . .

Nandi the Bull is the mount and gatekeeper

for the god Shiva and his consort Parvati

Later in the day

I focus on the small figures above me -

looking down . . .

Next morning at the Shiva cave 29

I am completely surrounded by a crowd

of children from Uttar Pradesh.

Bright-eyed girls with colorful jewelry and hennaed hands -

slender boys with sparkling tikka marks on their foreheads -

all so curious and excited !

Many photos are taken as I draw -

At the last Jain cave (32),

finding a quiet spot . . .

Everything is about to change -

(searching everywhere, then pulled into the complex process

of acquiring a phone in India).

But first - for a long moment -

I just keep drawing -

absorbed and happy.

In Ajanta

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 19:30:00 +0000

Early in the morning we take off for Ajanta

with our steady driver Takrit.

Steve and Takrit talk throughout the two hour trip

and I gaze out the window, sketching details of life along the road,

feeling surprisingly relaxed for being in a car in India

(usually a terrifying experience ! )

Takrit drops us off at the parking lot and we line up to ride the buses

that take everyone to the entrance of this World Heritage site -

twenty-six caves lining the edge of a remote gorge -

carved and painted between 200 and 500 AD -

most of the art created during an intense twenty year period and then abandoned

as the looming chaos of war enveloped it all.

A flowering of painting and sculpture from long ago.

We begin to explore . . .

The cave walls are painted exquisitely with court scenes

and stories of the Buddha's lives,

but the spaces are so dark, the images so severely damaged,

just fragments remain.

My eyes are straining as I try to make out the details with binoculars and a flashlight.

Finally I settle into a corner of a deep inner chamber

that has one electric light on the large Buddha statue.

His hands are intact, not broken or damaged,

and powerfully expressive.

As I sketch Indian families gather one after another to be photographed

in front of the huge sculpture . . .

We move along through the caves,

trying to get a sense of the spaces, and the lives lived within them.

Did Buddhist monks practice here ?

Who were the artists ? Who were the patrons ?

How did it come so quickly to an end ?

At the last cave I find a small spot to sit and gaze

on the long stretched out body of the Buddha . . .

I'm in a narrow space, with people filing by

and a guard nearby yelling "No flash ! No flash!"

Even so I'm feeling settled and happy being with this quiet resting form.

A man stops to tell me about his connection with vipassana meditation

and the centers worldwide. I turn to him and say,

"Sounds like what the world needs ! "

I move a few feet down and begin another drawing -

Now the guard is telling me I have to move on - finish up quickly.

As he stands there waiting impatiently he remarks,

"Don't you have a camera ?!"

On the drive back at the end of the day . . .

Drawing in the Caves

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 15:21:00 +0000

For the last three weeks I have been in India
drawing the Hindu, Buddhist and Jain sculptures
in the caves at Ellora and Ajanta.

I was following in the footsteps of the Swiss artist
Alice Boner (1889-1981) who had contemplated these sculptures
and discovered the sacred geometry within the forms
(more on this later).

The thirty-four caves at Ellora were carved out of the rock
from the sixth through the ninth centuries.
They are shrines within a mountain.
Cave as womb.
Cave as heart.
I begin the process of exploring,
moving from the outer world to the inner . . .

First Day.
Wandering through the stone spaces -
listening, waiting, for the way IN . . .

The whole image of The Mighty Boar (Varaha Avatara)
is too complex for me to take on this first day.
I sit and draw the details -
his great hand, and foot, and snout,
feeling the sweetness of his contact.

Varaha is an emanation of the god Vishnu - the Preserver -
who comes to save the world when some great evil threatens.
Here he has taken the form of the Boar who has plunged into the ocean
to rescue the Goddess Earth and lift her up.

I see how trusting and relaxed she is in his hands -
raised into the clouds - victorious. . .

In the next cave I am drawn to the pillar carvings.
I'm warming up - finding relationships everywhere !

On to Ajanta - next posting coming soon . . .

New Season / New Strokes

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 21:14:00 +0000

Bringing what is inside - out . . .
onto the page -
through the screen -
into the world . . .

Summer Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 15:28:00 +0000

Taking a pause
on the slow blogging . . .

Getting ready for
HAIKU BRUSH SKETCH !
Consider joining me . . .

here is the link for more information -
http://www.barbarabash.com/workshops/workshops_haiku2011.html

Four days in July
exploring with brush, pencil, pen and voice
listening and speaking what's true. . .

A Walk in the Woods

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 19:00:00 +0000

I am in Holland again for
the Authentic Leadership in Action conference.

One afternoon, after so much talking,
I need to clear my mind and feel the "more-than-human" world.

I step outside and walk into the woods . . .

But this path goes on and on.

There is no right turn path to take me back.

Suddenly right to my side, standing in the dark woods,

I see a small herd - eight of them - all different sizes, bristled, tusked.

I stop. They stop. We watch each other.

After a long moment they all trot away.

I think, "Ah - this is why I came out here. It's all worth it now! "

I ask him where the conference center is.

He doesn't know, but tells me if I keep going I'll get to the village of Ellspeet.

I've been walking for an hour and a half.

I find my way to the village, comforted by the presence of houses.

I turn down the paved road. Four teenagers on bicycles pass by and assure me

the center is two kilometers ahead.

I begin to calm down . . .

I step into the building. It is buzzing with activity.

I appreciate each person in a whole new way.

Bones

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 21:27:00 +0000

On a gray afternoon
I see the shape
of the aspen tree
anew. . .

Bittersweet

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Sat, 08 Jan 2011 14:55:00 +0000

Sitting in this quiet studio

(husband and son off on their adventures in the world)

as snow falls steadily outside.

Hours spent this morning on the phone and computer,

attending to - caring for - relationships.

Now I turn to the strand of bittersweet,

clipped and unwound from the rose brambles,

waiting for me . . .

Found

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 14:33:00 +0000

This cold morning

I glance out the door

and see the body of a blue jay

scattered on the stones.

At first - not wanting to look.

Then carrying the pieces into the studio

and silently attending with my eyes -

connected to my hand -

touching brush and paint and paper . . .

Late Autumn

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 16:35:00 +0000

After the maple leaves drop

I find glowing colors

in overlooked places . . .

Waking up early . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 08:44:00 +0000

In Istanbul

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Sat, 14 Aug 2010 19:26:00 +0000

I spent ten days this month exploring and sketching in this alive city.

(We were there because my husband Steve Gorn was playing

in the Ismet Siral/Creative Music Studio festival.)

Here is what found its way into my sketchbook -

First, a tulip tile image (originally a Turkish word and flower

and also the root of the word "turban") with the cobblestone pattern

that was everywhere under our feet.

The first day out I decide to visit the Rustem Pasha mosque.

It's 1:00 pm on Friday and I am unaware that any Turkish man

with an ounce of devotion shows up to pray at that time.

Hordes of men are streaming in, but the policeman stops me at the door.

I am indignant !

I pull back, drop into the sketchbook,

and find my way through . . .

The city is hot and swarming with tourists from Europe and the Middle East -

women in miniskirts and tank tops - women in full length black burkas,

only their eyes showing.

We head underground to escape the heat and find another woman

in a puzzling position . . .

(more confusion for me around the feminine ! )

I head off by myself one afternoon, exploring the side lanes leading

down the hill. I get lost - and tired - and finally find a place to settle

and drink a tiny cup of strong Turkish coffee . . .

An excursion with musicians, students and friends . . .

Walking down the slope of a quiet street

the dark opening in an old fountain catches my eye . . .

Waiting in the mosque courtyard for a shower to pass

I have the time to notice . . .

On the last day I find myself drawing faster -

catching the moments, the cityscapes, the relationships . . .

At the end of the afternoon I walk slowly down the hill from the Grand Bazaar

and have an encounter with one of Istanbul's totem creatures.

Tired / complete / my line / my brush / loose and easy .

At the Monastery

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 22:19:00 +0000

Teaching Haiku/Brush/Sketch

at Zen Mountain Monastery this past weekend,

I encourage my students to step through

the doubt and hesitation and get something

down in the sketchbook.

At the end of the workshop

I walk up the wooded path to the cemetery

to visit my friend Richard Barsky.

It's been twelve years since he died.

I stand in front of the vertical grave marker,

looking down at the capstone that covers his ashes.

I hear Richard's voice inside me,

"Go ahead. Do it."

I open my sketchbook - and get something down . . .

Writing of the World

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 10:55:00 +0000

On a Nantucket beach . . .

Writing by Hand

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Tue, 11 May 2010 19:30:00 +0000

This ancient human experience

is washing away

in the rushing electronic river.

I touch back in -

with its power and beauty

and truth . . .

Seeds Sprouting

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 20:07:00 +0000

As the seasons shift

I struggle with sadness

while surrounded by beauty.

Then, in the midst of my Brush Book workshop,

the truth comes through again . . .

A Day at the Museum

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Bash) — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 11:12:00 +0000

After a week of snowstorms

I head into New York City and the Metropolitan Museum

to see what draws me in and out . . .

I expect to feel my delight and curiosity.

Instead I stagger through the halls, overwhelmed and discouraged.

The buddhas and bodhisattvas do not comfort me.

The Egyptians seem preoccupied with death.

All the people wandering around appear to have attention deficit disorder -

but it's really me that has it !

Finally I get to the "primitives" - Oceania, Africa, Pre-Colombian -

and I painfully coax my pencil to the page . . .