red me silk 
tell him i wait by the wolf river

perhaps it’s the certainty with which you fell
on the wooden floors, that now i too am tempted to

soul-sized is the land of my heart
how far i’ve travelled across the twists and turns and curves
from a time before time beyond time
and still i sing the clothes off his body towards me
as we become night

his accent is thick with the sound of home
with fires and stars beneath his shirt
he smells of a deep forest blue midnight

wolf dream moon

how long can i kiss him without inhaling?
how long can i kiss him without disappearing?

how long can my frail body be held in the flickering candle flame?

two threads wrapped together – a wick
like a prayer, held inside and outside of it

he’s so blood-close, like faith
without hands, moving through me
divine and unfixed, the silence – a giant oil lamp
without a tongue, touches me

little wildrose, did you see us

the night that we were
by the wolf river

when i was skin-prayer

when you could only see half the image through the rain, but it was us
i know it

the way skin knows touch from teeth
from time to time we almost touch

through the hours, when we slip
ourselves loose from the reasons

and i deepen into a drop
containing our intimacy

listen wind on the water

leopard spots of light are cast on the river
as the wind touches the leaves of the willow tree in our meadow
inside the place where nothing can hold us, i stay
so i’m held

and i sit there, still, and still, by the river
where winter almost never comes
no matter how much the leaves turn green to crimson to amber to gold
and then no leaves at all
red softens snow
red on the water
echoes from a wild dress

inside the candle i’m still burning

Thoughts on creativity:

When I first saw this installation by Allyson Keehan, I was completely pulled in by the red satin. Perhaps it was because I love red, and love silk and satin, and I have a dress of that same colour and fabric. Or perhaps it was the freedom of it all, the certainty with which it falls on the wooden floors. It was an experience of my senses. The texture, the movement, the feel against my skin. This is what creativity is in its essence. Whether through words, or fabrics, or film images, we shape experiences, we enter worlds, with the rivers of our consciousness.  

Today, I want to talk about the creative process and I find no better way to start than with filmmaker David Lynch. Not only a filmmaker, Lynch is a visual artist, painter, musician, writer, author, and practinioner of Transcendental Meditation. While I may not resonate with many of his movies, although I am a big fan of his series Twin Peaks and was stuck to the television each night to watch it as a child, I love his mind. I love his perspectives. I love the multi layers of depth, curiosity, strangeness, and the possibility to learn something new, as I challenge my own perceptions and visions. I love his courage in creating things that are not mainstream. I love his fearlessness in consistently pushing the boundaries of his own psyche. I love his dedication to expanding his own consciousness, and his continuous self-reflections. I love his perseverence through the years, no matter how few people believed in his art in the beginning. I love the way he weaves the spiritual into the humanly accessible in the most unique of ways. And I believe it is precisely all this, that makes him a creative genius. One of the things that I learned from him, is that regardless of whether someone will like our art or not, we should stay true to it and the uniqueness with which it comes through us. A quote of his that I love is this:

“If you have a golf-ball-sized consciousness, when you read a book, you’ll have a golf-ball-sized understanding; when you look out a window, a golf-ball-sized awareness; when you wake up in the morning, a golf-ball-sized wakefulness; and as you go about your day, a golf-ball-sized inner happiness. But if you can expand that consciousness, make it grow, then when you read that book, you’ll have more understanding; when you look out that window, more awareness; when you wake up, more wakefulness; as you go about your day, more inner happiness.” 

Desire is a bait. Desire for an idea is a bait. And then we wait, and we listen, with our fishing rod, or like a wild animal, like a leopard, for the right *it* to approach us. Some ideas we’ll like, and they’ll spark our interest, and others will not. 

In many ways, creativity is a spiritual act. The more we expand our consciousness, the deeper the sea will be, the more abundant the forest will be, the greater the sky will be – and the more things will be available to approach us. The more we expand our consciousness, the more aware we are, and the more worlds open within us – and there is a deepening, of receiving, of perceiving, of understanding. 

The creative process is also an art of seduction. Our bodies and our minds are the stable, clear vessel through which inspired creativity flows, along the streams of our consciousness. Seduction starts at the end of the last culmination. It’s like love making – seduction starts after the end of the last time you had sex. It’s not just with genitals that we make love – we make love with sounds, gestures, ears, affection, attention, hands, tongues, words. Along these emotional wild lands, we move towards the next making of love. The next art making. So the next book too, starts after the publication of the last one. But it’s not a straight road. There will be pauses. There will be distractions too. And it might take a long time.    

Every story is a world we enter into. And we make things alive in it. At the beginning, it’s only an idea that we’ve caught, that we’ve liked, but then it needs to be shaped into something tangible – into a poem, a song, a film. And it has its own timing for when it’d approach us. Remember – you are the leopard. You wait. It will come. Widen your senses, sharpen your senses, be patient. Be aware of all limits, fears and boundaries within you, don’t deny them, use their knowledge for they have wisdoms too. Let your natural sweet scent pull your desires and creative ideas closer. In the wild, leopards actually give off a sweet scent in the air when prey is nearby, so that the prey are drawn closer. We have to keep our sweet scent too coming from inside of us, which is our true essence of self. It is also the allowing, the trusting, the inner knowing, and the surrender, that we will offer our hands and lips when it comes. And remember: *it* has its own timing, which isn’t always on *our* timing. It has its own kindness of rhythm. Let it find you. It will. In the ambiguity, creativity arises most freely. This is why we often get ideas when we shower, or as we fall asleep, because our bodies and mind are more relaxed, and in greater allowance.

It’s a ritual of approach – allowing things to surface. This also means being in a state of openness, trust, and deep awareness of all and everything. Once it comes, it will wrap itself like a dream around our entire body, and it is the surfaces that it touches, our senses, which will begin it to become tangible.

What does it smell like? What does it feel like when it touches our skin? When does it sound like, taste like? What does it look like?

The fabric, the texture, the movement. The feeling. All that becomes an experience – a door, a world, an entering.

But there must be a clarity of mind within you. There is no real inspired creativity without clarity of mind. The more we dive into the oceans of our own consciousness, the clearer we become in our openness to fully receive it. And the more we engage with it, dance it, honour it the more it flows through us, again and again, because we’ve created a bridge, a connection.

We can sit in a room, all and only four walls, and have everything of this world. This is spirituality. This is mysticism. This is creativity. And perhaps – this is love too: a natural state of our being. 

Check out my other poems from the {poem + story} series he steps into the sea and kiss on the wrist.   

You can also visit my poems page, check out my two love poetry books, Moonhold (2019) and The God-like Things (2021), listen to my spoken word while musing over some of my videos and photography, and read my essay on poetry and mysticism published in The Poetry Question Journal. 

If you value what I do, you can support me and Art of Love by sharing my articles and poems, buy my books or donate some magic coins in my hat on Paypal. By supporting me, you allow me the freedom and ability to be even more creative and contribute with more. All proceeds go towards expanding my work made of love, including publishing my books, my humanitarian projects and creating content including courses and holistic programs. And if you would like to work with me, hire me or collaborate, feel free to contact me. 

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Cover: Fabricating Fantasy / Red | Installation by Allyson Keehan, oil on panel and satin fabric.