art, Buddhism, Life, poetry, spirituality, The artist, The Poet, The Shaman
“No matter what forms we observe, but particularly in the organic, we shall find nowhere anything enduring, resting, completed, but rather that everything is in a continuous motion.”—Goethe, Joseph Campbell’s Creative Mythology
And therein is the eternal burden of the genuine poet/artist/shaman. Rather than demonstrate a commanding proficiency with thought and ideas, the common medium of civilized communication, he or she is focused on that which is ever changing, ever in the process of flow, of growth, of exfoliation.
Words, by their very fixity of nature, their unchanging rigidity, cannot serve his desire, his overpowering need, to express the dynamic reality he feels within and observes without.
He is obliged to discover—or rediscover I should say—the living essence of poetry.
And having done so he risks almost complete misunderstanding by the vast majority of his peers and compatriots stuck as they are in thought and idea.