There is an artist by the name of Jamali who has pioneered a new way of painting, christened 'mystical expressionism' by the critic, Donald Kuspit. Jamali paints out of doors, his canvas on the forest floor, applying paint in a process akin to a Sufi's meditative dance. He then allows the work to lie in the forest, interacting with nature for a time, before once again he works on it himself. In this way he is able to build up layer upon layer of pigment, color, surface, meaning.
There is a beauty in this approach to art that takes into account, indeed counts upon, the randomness of the unknown. Where a leaf will land or a certain texture of earth will mix with a pigment to affect its density, its hue, its texture on the canvas left to something other than the 'conscious' mind. Something other than the ego. But not all is left to chance. Jamali's works are not random assemblage of materials. There is a give and take, a refining and a guiding of the random elements when he returns to each piece. It is the vision of an artist that comes through, and something other. I have seen one of these works up close many years ago, and indeed though there was much else going on that evening, it was my experience of the painting that remains clear to this day. The painting was full and rich, and in the midst of a rather loud gathering of expensive wine and business people supporting the arts in their fashion, the piece held its own, its corner of the hilltop mansion remaining calm and serene, yet lively.
Jamali's work is attractive because it embodies, in its way, a life well-lived:
The foundation of his art is the exploration and the expression of the spirit, of that deepest part of himself.
He uses ritual and ancient practices to align, through himself, the connection of unboundedness, i.e. God, with individuality.
Also through his practice he brings himself into present moment awareness to be absolutely available to the work at hand.
The work itself begins, generally, with an idea that has come to him, rather than one that he has 'figured out.'
His whole process of back and forth, from the planned to the unplanned, mirrors the process of living, in that though we might begin our day with an idea of a certain direction, like the canvas on the forest floor, a lot happens in any 24 hour period that is completely outside our realm of control. Jamali, rather than pushing through the uncontrolled toward what he thinks should happen, incorporates it and lets it guide his next moves.
We may not be doing a painting, or any kind of art piece ourselves, still we make take a lead from the artist as to finding fullness in life.
When we do something on a regular basis, each day or each week, it's often easy to drop out and go on automatic pilot, letting our body show up while our mind engages in speculation and other sorts of business; but indeed, no two experiences of anything ever are the same. Even doing the dishes, if I have done them every night for the past five years, will be different tonight because I have never done the dishes after this particular day having these specific experiences and seeing it all through this distinct state of consciousness. Ordering my coffee at Peet's, driving to the gym, putting gas in the car--I can pretend I've done these things before, that there's nothing new available for me in the experience, or I can bring myself present and engage in the art of living, the art of really noticing the subtle differences in everything around me, and seeing how I might respond to them, drawn always by the imperative of the spiritual life that everything I experience is an opportunity to go deeper within myself and to bring more of the depth of myself to everything I experience. When life is seen this way, each day can be an adventure, rather than just more of the ever-repeating known. All our encounters can be artful. All that we are in a given day can be an expression of something greater than ourselves.
Today I will be present, even at those times when I think I know what's going to happen.
Sunset, Fryman Canyon, Labor Day 2011, Los Angeles, CA
