Wabi Sabi Friendship, Wabi Sabi Love

Finding Wabi Sabi was sweet serendipity. Then, it was a home decorating concept, greatly appealing to my sensibility for a natural, earthy approach to home living. Now, it is a way of being that brings naturalness and beauty, a  necessary peace, to my life and relationships.

Wabi Sabi is a Japanese concept, a way of life that “places value on the transient, unfinished and imperfect nature of life. It sees beauty in the rough edges of both people and things. It is at peace with what is. It values all that is real and authentic, finding joy and fulfillment in the good, bad and ugly rather than longing for unattainable fantasies of the ideal.” ¹

We believe in the ideal and flawless, and everywhere we are hounded by the urgency of manicured perfection. Some of the most beautiful words ever written, “Let it be” and “All is well” now feel like pieces of distant wisdom, irrelevant and unattractive to our passion for the idyll. Still, the true and imperfect nature of life remains. We suffer from persistent shortfalls in our relationships. We think we deserve more and so continue to demand more. We and our loves, constantly tugging at each other’s imperfections, in an attempt to wield them into anything but. What toxicity we unknowingly feed each other on such precious, borrowed time. Where is the friendship and what happened to the love?

What if we stopped making demands on the size and shape of our loving? What if we practice friendship to practice love? What if we “love without agenda”²? What if we simply let things be and allowed life to ebb and flow as it should? What if we assured ourselves that all is well and believed it enough to finally see the handwriting of God in everything?

Know that I ventured far enough into my What Ifs to say, each  gives peace and joy and fulfillment. Know that the serendipity of Wabi Sabi is also practical wisdom. Know that love and truth and beauty flow forth and back on the river of imperfection yet never fade. Know that faith moves mountains and God never forsakes.

This is my experience, and quite frankly, here is my heart! I hope it is helpful.

Arno _ Wabi Sabi

¹Jacques, Andrea. Wabi-Sabi Wisdom: Inspiration for an Authentic Life. . Kyosei Press. Kindle Edition.
² Chona Carino Solano

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Spaces, gaps and silences

Four years seems too long, this update is overdue.

I observed that absence gives presence more meaning.  Same with spaces, gaps and silences.  All of them scant in our fashionably loaded schedules these days. How convinced we are that they are intolerable in our conversations, our routines, our weekends. Are they?

A film titled “The Bookshop” based on Penelope Fitzgerald’s book starring Emily Mortimer and Bill Nighy reminded me otherwise.  The writing abounds with beautiful dialogue where gaps and silences hold more meaning than a flurry of words ever could.  I think of painting, and how chiaroscuro, the play of light and shadow mastered so wonderfully by Caravaggio, give paintings precious depth and lifelike qualities. In rendering the absence of light, its presence powerfully transports us to that moment in the life of Christ. We too are filled with awe and terror  like Thomas,  in touching His wounded side.  In music, it is the same.  Silences in orchestral pieces are essential and purposed. By writing gaps for all other instruments during the violin solos, Vivaldi elevated beauty into a sublime symphony that is the Four Seasons.  Hemingway did the same in writing, he carved poignant stories by silencing the unnecessary. “For sale : baby shoes. Never worn.”

We feel this too in life — when we are without something or someone, that absence amplifies the gift of their presence. More so in prayer,  when we lose our words to tears, we find sacred spaces that are Heaven’s touch point.

Sacred spaces, necessary gaps, purposed silences. Attendant absences. They are not intolerable. Let them be our places and points of  finding the essential, the meaningful, and especially, the most beautiful in life.

It has been four years.  I hope you find this useful.

 

 

 

From a Heart that Burns Within

I have heard it said that paintings are an imprint of the artist’s soul. Each day that I spend marrying pigment to brush on canvas or panel gives credence to this view. It almost feels like a moving and active meditation, a time for the soul’s communion with its experience of reality, translated thoughtfully onto the painting. Long and tedious work on challenge areas eventually reward me with unexpected breakthroughs, preceded by my own heart racing as I paint angles and values with bated breath, to visibly convincing positions. At last, her foot appears mid-stride. This was my most recent and significant breakthrough.

Although I am convinced that painting is my vocation in life, I am grateful for the day job that I enjoy very much. It keeps me balanced and supports my art. It allows me to aspire towards paintings that represent an inner eternal flame for beauty, truth and meaning beyond the tangible and the daily routine. My hope is for others to view these works, these so-called imprints, and to derive joy and substance from what I have seen and felt in life, so far. I agree that art happens as the work unfolds from within the artist and just as meaningfully, art happens when the viewer is engaged and the work evokes an awareness for the substantial in his life. I seek to bring joy this way.

Each work is a gift from a heart that burns within; from a heart filled with gratitude for the gift that it can never fully deserve but can only render in faith, for others.

Five Loaves and Two Fish

“Five loaves and two fish”.  To me, these five words are another way of saying, show up for your life and give it your best shot.  We often keep our dreams and intentions on hold while we wait for what we believe are sure signs of success in our endeavors. Sometimes, the signs appear like a writing on the wall. Sometimes, we do not recognize the signs and so we don’t give our dreams a shot at becoming reality. What has worked for me, so far, is to give whatever I have,  e.g. “five loaves and two fish”, towards my aspirations and unfailingly, life has multiplied my offering, sometimes way beyond my own imaginings.

I am now working on a painting with walking figures in the foreground and my greatest challenge by far is how to get my subjects to emit the striding stance that they have in reality.  Who knew that painting walking feet would be so difficult?

Three hours of scumbling, smudging and smoothing and I still can’t get my angles in the right perspective.  Sigh. Her feet will have to wait another day, I tell myself, as I  wash my paintbrush clean and think of my life’s other currencies, e.g. work deadlines and household chores.  Still, I think  about all my hard-won triumphs on canvas and I resolve to be earnest in my daily offering of “five loaves and two fish” and give thanks that I have something to offer.  Tomorrow, I will show up for my life as I have today. I will come closer to painting her feet as accurately as I see it, e.g. walking mid-stride on cobbled streets on market day.  This work will come to fruition and will give joy to its viewer.  This work will cause a multiplication in my daily offering.  When this painting is finished, my life will gain far more than my own imaginings when the work began as a mere intention, when it significance was a mere contemplation.  My heart shall be content and will  once again rejoice for the baskets of blessings left over from the offering of five loaves and two fish.

 

 

Life and Art – When reality becomes a backstory

“There are places I remember, all my life, though some have changed…all these places have their moments…I loved them all.”, so the song goes. And so does my art.  It is all hands on deck for me these days as I prepare 7 new canvases for a show this July. In this show, I am paying tribute to the beauty that my eyes have touched and my soul has sensed in my travels. Each painting takes me back to that unique moment when my subjects caught my eye and moved me to capture both life and light. As I travel back through time, all that had once been faded memories are alive again, each one clear and crisp, as though on them the dust of time or the mist of parting had never settled. The ritual of preparing pigments and studying subject photographs just before marrying pigment to canvas with my brush makes me realize how the seemingly ordinary gains meaning when our soul is engaged and our eyes perceive consciously, even if only for a moment.  To be seen for our souls is to be valued for who we are in our hearts. Too often do we see, but we seldom see consciously.   This is why they say the essential is invisible to the eye.  As each canvas is finished, I hope to share the work and their respective backstories —- all that I saw and all that it has made me feel and understand, about life so far.  It is impossible not to have a backstory.  Backstories are the essence of my art,  and my daily reality of joys and struggles are their basic rudiments. Here is one of them. The work below entitled, “Measure In Love”,  was done in February 2013 as a memento for celebrating a decade of friendship with my closest friends.  One chair for each friend who has taught me to measure my life in love.  Indeed, there are many ways to measure our lives — too often we measure by what we have taken and acquired for ourselves.  We forget too easily that deep down, our hearts long for  the joy of giving, of giving freely and from the heart.  This painting is for all of us whose lives have been enriched by the power of friendship and measured in love.  Enjoy! Measure In Love

Art, like love, is lovelier….

It all began in early 2012, 23 years after I had left Art School to pursue a course in business because I did not feel I was ever going to be good enough in my art. I was on a wild and expensive whim — I learned that the Musee D’Orsay Paris was loaning out its Impressionist Works to the National Museum of Singapore— it was a prospect too decadent to refuse. So I packed my bags and went away for the weekend, with best friend in tow —- who else goes on a wild whim, guilt-free and spontaneous but your trusty friend who has tagged you along on her own versions of the wild side? So we booked a two night stay at the nearest hotel to the Museum and went on the adventure that changed our lives forever — and changed for the better, I must say.

It was the last weekend of the Exhibit in Singapore during our visit. We went to see the works on each day that we were there but it was that visit on the last day that charted me towards a path that I had secretly hoped would be mine again, though it was inconceivable to imagine how. I was up early on the last day and started for the Museum straight after breakfast. Naturally, I was the first guest that day. Entrance was free on that last day, an auspicious sign, unbeknownst to me. The Exhibit guard, thinking it was my first time to see the Show, met me at the entrance and spoke to me in Chinese, motioning for me to follow her through the maze of Impressionist works —– we passed Manet, Monet, Renoir, Pisarro, Degas, Bonnard, Rousseau, Cezanne and all the Impressionist Masters on the way to the non-Impressionist in the group, the one she was most proud to present to me. “Van Gogh…”, she said and smiled as she faded into the maze of panels, half-lit, encased in a soft silence, much like the break of dawn hinting at the rise of a new day.

So I sat before “Starry Night Over The Rhone” in solitude, the eerie silence around me falling away into irrelevance. I sat there in silence. Cobalt blues and gentle grays for the sky and glowing yellows for the stars. Lovers walking in faint darkness and two boats by the bank, parked for the night. Each stroke sure and resolute. Breathtaking. Celestial. And somewhere in that solitude, I felt it —- “When are you coming back?” the words pierced through my heart, in the exact same way that my soul felt seen, seen and stoked by a work birthed more than a century ago, by someone I only knew of from books and Don McLean’s famous, “Starry, starry night…”. I sat for awhile more and began to rationalize all that I had heard and felt, in my heart and in my soul, just as other visitors started pouring in. I realized that I was gifted with a moment of intimacy that was fleeting but powerful. Surely, I needed some air so I could attempt to make sense of it all, as I had been trained in business school —- to find the story (behind the numbers) and then form a view. I formed a view, but the story did not seem to make logical sense.

I went home to Manila and found myself strangely resolute about touching base with a lady who holds painting sessions in her gallery in Alabang. Her daughter’s works had enchanted me since 2005 and I was drawn to their path. Today they are both my teachers and mentors, in art and just as importantly, in life. Like love, art is lovelier, the second time around.

I had researched more on Van Gogh’s life and works and got more acquainted with the story behind Don McLean’s “Vincent”. The lyrics are beautiful and filled with meaning, especially “frameless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can’t forget”….these were meant to reference the way Van Gogh’s paintings outlived him, each one a channel through which the artist continues to watch the world that he loved and can’t forget. This must have been the reason why I felt Starry Night pierced through my soul, watching me in a way I could never forget on that auspicious day.

As I drove from the Gallery on that Saturday in March 2012, the first of many that I would spend painting in the Gallery, I switched the radio on to a very unexpected sign —- “Starry, starry night….paint your palette blue and gray…” It was my writing on the wall, so to speak —- from what seemed like a wild and decadent whim in the company of the Impressionist Masters, I had found my way back to the path that called to me from a distant past. Starry Night pointed me back to my way home.

As within, so without.

A mentor once told me, “Art opens many joys in your life that were hidden before – both inside you and outside you.” And this, by far rings true in my life in a way that humbles me and makes it possible for me to understand what it means to be grateful, everyday for everything. Not to say that I am spared from heartache or self-doubt because art has not dulled my senses to life’s imperfections. Art simply keeps nudging me towards positivity and this, I believe, is how it opens many joys within. And as within, so without.

I am preparing for a group show in July this year —- a stint that reflects my secret longing to share the beauty and mystery of places that have touched my soul in the hope that these pieces would inspire joy and hope and positivity. Each piece is a gift to those who would receive it. Each work is a child of my heart, birthed into the world for those whose lives, like mine, were changed by beauty, not only for the better, but more certainly, for good.

P.S. Exhibit details to follow soon. I’ll be seeing you! In the meantime, sharing with you a view of The Vltava and Charles Bridge against the Prague Castle in “Prague at Dusk”

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