The Impossible Garden
& The Wildforest
ART & STORIES BY MARICHIT GARCIA
You'd think it would be a dire sad situation but I actually had one of the most creatively and satisfyingly productive days of the past four weeks.
The saga dayjob report was finished Tuesday, sent out in advance to local client by Wednesday, presented on Thursday via a telecon meeting (the main clients were in Europe). By Friday the adrenaline pump subsided and I was a plain simple creature who could only do the most basic things although by evening I was beginning to perk up.
Normally I would have had a small celebration, especially a little Artist's Date, for getting through the dayjob wringer and surviving once again. But remember that paycheck that was withheld before Christmas? It won't be released until next week and by this time my pockets and my wallet are empty. My dad and my sister (who has recently started employment with an office job) filled in the household expenses that I could not cover. (I don't want to hold grudges but that delayed paycheck really caused me (and other people) too many inconveniences.)
ANYWAY, let us look at the bright side of Things.
I didn't have money so all errands had to be put off (vet visits, groceries, bill payments, family days, etc.) I was under house arrest. Being in a city, there was nowhere I could go for free. Not in this town. Not where I can hang out and linger in safety and comfort while I read or write or paint without having to shell out cash so I can stay. No well-designed parks or forest walks. No seaside or lakeside or babbling brooks. No tree-shaded benches along the street. Heck, there isn't even a proper quiet well-stocked public library like the ones I see in movies or read about in books. Everything in this city is commercial, noisy, crowded, and price-tagged. If you don't have cash, it's hard to find a more peaceful, safer place than your own home if you want to do the things I want to do (except the nature walks --- I can really only do that in my imagination.)
So I stayed home all Saturday, from early morning to late evening. I painted, finally. Found the groove where I left off before the dayjob project took my hours away. Because I did not have to be anywhere else, and because I did not have the option in the first place to be anywhere else, I let myself sink deep. And somehow, despite the seeming limitations of my material realities, I found myself very much free and open and expanding. While my outside was a lot of things that most people would find poor, sad, even dismaying, my inside was actually a landscape waking up to Spring, bursting forth with blooms and infinite shades of greens and blues, shimmering and sparkling in the sunlight, and revealing traces of magic in the moonlight.
As I sat there, making art, I felt joy. The kind that you feel when you're aligned with what you are and with the flow of the Universe, the Greater Design. I felt the weight of Things: the emptiness of my pockets that was also empty of power to distract me, the layers of paint on the canvas, the world being born in my mind's eye, following the compass of my spirit, flowing out of my hand. I felt the Otherside, the hidden beneath the grittiness of daily life, the flipside of my mortal capabilities. I felt at peace, precious moments of true calm, of being without fear or worry, of feeling my feet standing solid with faith. I felt the true road stretch before me, for a few minutes unobstructed, superimposed over the trackless depths of a forest I have yet to pass through. I felt blessed. I felt grateful. I felt hopeful.
I realised and appreciated being "cornered" this way, being put on "house arrest" by sheer lack of money (the one thing that's supposed to make the modern world go round). Instead of being limited, I experienced freedom. There was nowhere else to go but towards the Call. I made art, I tuned in to the rhythm of creation, I planted seeds, I nourished ideas. It's all invisible though, all happening inside, no one else could see the fireworks.
This is called Queen Of A Heart. I'm getting the hang of working with sequins.
This piece is still in-progress. Three days now, the longest I've ever spent on a single work. 20 x 24 in.
The risk (and seeming madness) of it all rubs at me constantly. What about the future? What about when you get sick, or when you get older? You are alone. You have nothing. You are not ready for anything. You insist on all these plans that are not where the world is going. You are unrealistic. You are impractical. You are selfish. You think what you are doing is important. That it will make a difference. It's all illusion. It is all in your head.
No, it is all in my heart. It is all in my soul. That is all that matters now. And the world is going towards destruction for the sake of profit so I am going instead in the direction of creation, and preservation of nature and life. I will add my single count to the minority who can discern the real path to survival, growth, and evolution. It is not an illusion but a vision. A prayer. My life is an action, a shift, a small change.