Losing Consciousness

     Aside from heavy duty narcotics for which I was most grateful during my battle with a kidney stone, the next best way to lose consciousness is through the creative process.  I marvel at those artists, composers, writers, designers who give up the normal thought process and go someplace else entirely for very long periods of time.  

     Recently John and I chanced upon an art show up in Litchfield one Sunday afternoon.  The community center was chockablock with everything from pottery to weavings, from oils to jewelry.  What imagination these people had, and what time they spent not only in execution but in the process of conceiving.  How extraordinary it seems to me to see something so deeply that it confounds the rational brain.  I found myself standing before Rita Paradis' White Vessels, a pastel piece that was a still life in white.  But I could not stop gazing at the evidence that it was not white at all but various shades of pale greens, violets, and blues.  With a cursory glance the brain will register just white.
     Yesterday I read the obituary of composer and Pulitzer Prize winner Elliott Carter who died at 103 and was composing up until earlier this year.  He had studied with Danbury native Charles Ives (who sold insurance to the Carter family).  Talk about history!  His music was complex and difficult to grasp. He is quoted in the New York Times:  “As a young man, I harbored the populist idea of writing for the public.  I learned that the public didn’t care. So I decided to write for myself. Since then, people have gotten interested.” Oh, to have the courage of one's unique gift and break the ground of new ideas!  You can listen to Carter's Cello Sonata to hear for yourself.
     So here am I, desiring to write, and yet dodging the muse with every excuse I can find.  I don't want to give up control of my thoughts to her.  She will infiltrate my being and take over, confuse me, infuriate me, exhaust me.  And yet, why do I insist upon writing?  I write to discover questions that had never occurred to me before.  I write to explore their answers.  I write to see if there are personal Truths I need to examine.  I ask myself if these are universal Truths. Then I just put it out there.  Most people do not respond to any of these blogs.  But I decided when I first started them this was simply a way for me to show up and do the writing.  It's not that I don't care what you think about my pieces or if you choose to read them at all.  It's just that I care more about the process.    
     So here's my question for you:  What are you willing to lose consciousness for?  Where does your muse take you?  What do you learn?  And are you willing to share it with others?

Pax tecum.