The Unrepeatable Moment

Digital Art, the Unrepeatable Moment, and Living in the Now
March 2012

Digital art and paper cutting, Francesca De Grandis
I painted this digitally. The background is a photo of a fan-shaped paper-cutting I made in the 90s.

This blog is not just relevant to artists. It is more about living fully. That is the most important art. One could extrapolate from this blog, applying my creative process to any part of life. See the closing paragraph; I hope you will comment about your own way of nurturing an ecstatic state.

 When I started making digital art, I made a commitment. If I painted a little rose, paisley, or other ornamentation for a picture, I would not save the ornament. I would not stockpile these details. I wanted each new painting to be a work unto itself.

An exception is when I feel I have not made the best use of an ornament. Then maybe maybe MAYBE I’ll try to find a way to use it again. But most likely I will delete it, no matter the temptation.

This makes things ways more work. Way way more. It is worth it. I no more want to be caught up in repetitious use of ornaments than in rigid thought, I want the gorgeously unrepeatable moment in my life, over and over and over and over. That’s what I want to repeat (as well as some words in this blog, apparently, LOL). I am no master painter; at the time of this writing, I am just shy two years old, a fledging at painting and drawing; but I am an old hand at living in the moment. And, though creating visual art is not my main thing—in fact, it is far from it—I want maximum joy, integrity, and exploration of my inner and outer world in everything I do.

Direct revelation and other joys of mysticism happen in the now.

Digital art and paper cutting, Francesca De Grandis

Detail of ornamentation in above painting

There are other exceptions, all aimed at living fully. I might use an ornament again if I think I can learn something by doing so. E.g., find different facets of it. I’m not setting restrictive rules here to stifle myself, I’m trying to do the exact opposite—nurture an ecstatic state.

It is about knowing what will help me grow and be happy. On occasion, I have included one of my paintings—I’m not referring to ornaments now, but to a whole painting—in a composite of my different works. This is an exploration for me; I perhaps find new experiences in the pieces—new moments—as I take them into new contexts. I find that exciting. It illuminates my inner world so I see it better. It builds my personal mythology by letting it expand into various contexts.

A painting is usually part of my mythic self. When I put some of these myths together, I create (and discover) the larger, more complete myth.

An actual painting might represent a personal truth, maybe a longstanding one or perhaps one I discover through the painting process. I like to gather my truths together, and see where that leads me.

Another way repetition helped me: I wrote and illustrated a Faerie tale (which I hope to post soon on my other site). It was fun to use the same ornamentations throughout to build a fantasy world setting for the story. And it added a sense of whimsy.

Someone else might find saving ornaments a creative exploration. I support that. We each have our own way to find joy and completeness. But for me, no stockpiling! No creating file after file until digital clutter is massive. I want space in my life for life.

This blog is less about digital art than it is about the ecstatic path. I would love it if, below, you post any way you make room for or otherwise create fullness of being.

This entry was posted in Art, Writing, and Music, Spirit, The Whole Thing. Bookmark the permalink.

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