Out of My Depth
Oh Bowie, you’ve done it again. I’ve never seen this interview before, heard your expression of the idea, but you touch my artist’s heart to the core.
<please watch this, it’s only a minute>
A feeling I know so well, walking out into the water, being comfortable in the surf, letting it gradually lift me up until it begins to carry me; I can’t touch bottom: a perfect metaphor. It’s been a while since I’ve waded so far. I stand in my studio, watching the inks & cloths & canvas & paint lapping over my toes, but washing away again without coming to rest as a new thing in the world. I am undisciplined. I have always loathed practice, rewrites, also anything less than. So, I research & ponder & dream, putting off the beginning for fear of failing my vision in the end. But what good is that? The vision remains unborn in my soul rather than beginning a life in the world, an imperfect existence, struggling, but out here where it just might touch someone, the only way it may.
Yes, David, tomorrow . . . tonight. . . I will invite one small vision to come out into the world, to become. I will keep walking until I cannot touch bottom.