We practice in a cooperative training environment. When I train with a partner we enter into an agreement to abide by the structure of the exercise in order that we may both derive the benefits afforded us by the practice. The agreement is simple.
If we are practicing say, shomen uchi kokyu nage, I as uke agree to attack with a shomen strike and not a yokomen strike or katate tori. I agree to attack and, when nage moves, follow in order to continue attacking. As uke I agree to attack without foresight, that is, to attack where nage is and not where I know he's going to be. When practicing static grabs I agree to regulate the power of my attack and operate within nage's ability to receive and deal with that power, regardless of nage's rank.
If I'm not thrown I don't fall. If my balance isn't compromised I keep it. If nage leaves openings I do not ignore them.
As nage I agree to regulate the power of my technique and operate within uke's ability to take ukemi, regardless of uke's rank. I agree to execute the technique we are practicing. I agree to move without foresight, to present a tangible target for uke's strike or grab. I agree to respect the energy uke is putting into the attack and treat the attack with the same seriousness as I would if there was real ill intent behind it.
If I don't follow through on my throw I expect uke not to fall. If I don't disturb uke's balance I expect him to keep it. If I leave openings I expect them to be exploited.
I and my partner work together to better ourselves and for the betterment of each other. Cooperation in training does NOT imply capitulation on the part of either participant.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Two Hundred
I stand in natural stance and my partner, standing in front of me pushes on my shoulder. Usual Ki development practice would have me remain immobile, letting the force of the push flow through me while I remain relaxed and centered. This exercise is structured differently. As my partner pushes I allow my upper body to rotate about my vertical center line even as I remain relaxed and centered.
I don't lead the push, I want to feel the force being continually applied as I move; feel how it is altered, how my partner changes her angle of attack as my motion bleeds her force off, how she recovers in order to maintain her pressure on my shoulder. And then I stop, staying relaxed and centered. I stand immobile for a time, absorbing my partners push, and then rotate back to my original position while still being pushed, remaining relaxed and centered. With repeated iterations of this exercise I will stop at different points along my arc of rotation, stand for a moment and then rotate back to the starting position.
What I find instructive about this exercise is that I'm not being moved by the push, I'm moving of my own accord, channeling the force of the push as though I am still immobile. Aikido is, after all, about motion; about keeping correct feeling while immersed in the whirlwind of conflict. Practicing these dynamic Ki exercises provides me with opportunities to experiment with forces without having to concern myself with the execution of technique. As I learn to manipulate forces while performing simple motions I can apply what I learn during waza practice to make my technique rely more on correct feeling and less on the application of forces applied to my partner in order to get her to do what I want.
I don't lead the push, I want to feel the force being continually applied as I move; feel how it is altered, how my partner changes her angle of attack as my motion bleeds her force off, how she recovers in order to maintain her pressure on my shoulder. And then I stop, staying relaxed and centered. I stand immobile for a time, absorbing my partners push, and then rotate back to my original position while still being pushed, remaining relaxed and centered. With repeated iterations of this exercise I will stop at different points along my arc of rotation, stand for a moment and then rotate back to the starting position.
What I find instructive about this exercise is that I'm not being moved by the push, I'm moving of my own accord, channeling the force of the push as though I am still immobile. Aikido is, after all, about motion; about keeping correct feeling while immersed in the whirlwind of conflict. Practicing these dynamic Ki exercises provides me with opportunities to experiment with forces without having to concern myself with the execution of technique. As I learn to manipulate forces while performing simple motions I can apply what I learn during waza practice to make my technique rely more on correct feeling and less on the application of forces applied to my partner in order to get her to do what I want.
Friday, July 29, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-nine
When I was still in high school I spent a summer playing handball on Saturday mornings with my cousin. We would go down to a local park, slip on our gloves and bat that little black ball around for a couple of hours. Got so's we thought we were getting pretty good at the game; lots of sweat, huffin', puffin' and whatnot.
One Saturday as we were getting set to play a little old man shambled onto our court and asked if he could join us. Now it may be that I was seeing him through the eyes of youth, but I swear, that guy looked to be at least a hundred and seventy. We asked him to join us and inquired as to who he'd like to play first. As he was taking his gloves, which, if possible, looked older than he did, out of his pocket he looked up from under bushy eyebrows and matter-of-factly informed us that he would play us both at the same time. Amused, sure that we'd be back to playing each other momentarily, I tossed him the ball and bade him serve it up.
Two hours later we were dripping wet, sucking wind and thoroughly beaten. The old dude had barely broken a sweat when we finally threw in the towel. He chuckled, put his gloves back in his pocket, thanked us for the game and, back in his shambling gait, left.
Looking back I can see now that he played with mind/body coordination any Aikidoka would be proud of. He moved with economic grace and always arrived where the ball showed up using the least amount of movement. His shots were never more than an inch or two off the ground and almost impossible to return. Definitely minimum effort for maximum effect. As time wore on he grew, if anything, more relaxed and played with a joy that was not dependent on how he was performing.
In short, he embodied the four principles: Keep One Point, Progressive Relaxation, Correct Posture and Positive Mind. Aikido in daily life? It's all around me, all I have to do is open my eyes and look. And my Aikido doesn't have to end when class is over. I take what I have learned and practice each day to move through life with the same coordination of mind and body that I display on the mat. Life's just another opportunity to train.
One Saturday as we were getting set to play a little old man shambled onto our court and asked if he could join us. Now it may be that I was seeing him through the eyes of youth, but I swear, that guy looked to be at least a hundred and seventy. We asked him to join us and inquired as to who he'd like to play first. As he was taking his gloves, which, if possible, looked older than he did, out of his pocket he looked up from under bushy eyebrows and matter-of-factly informed us that he would play us both at the same time. Amused, sure that we'd be back to playing each other momentarily, I tossed him the ball and bade him serve it up.
Two hours later we were dripping wet, sucking wind and thoroughly beaten. The old dude had barely broken a sweat when we finally threw in the towel. He chuckled, put his gloves back in his pocket, thanked us for the game and, back in his shambling gait, left.
Looking back I can see now that he played with mind/body coordination any Aikidoka would be proud of. He moved with economic grace and always arrived where the ball showed up using the least amount of movement. His shots were never more than an inch or two off the ground and almost impossible to return. Definitely minimum effort for maximum effect. As time wore on he grew, if anything, more relaxed and played with a joy that was not dependent on how he was performing.
In short, he embodied the four principles: Keep One Point, Progressive Relaxation, Correct Posture and Positive Mind. Aikido in daily life? It's all around me, all I have to do is open my eyes and look. And my Aikido doesn't have to end when class is over. I take what I have learned and practice each day to move through life with the same coordination of mind and body that I display on the mat. Life's just another opportunity to train.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-eight
The bokken and jo staff are excellent tools for training correct feeling. When doing solo work with the bokken or jo my aim is to connect with the weapon so that instead of "moving it" I move me and let the weapon trace a path through space that arises naturally from my motion. Strikes, blocks, slices, thrusts and the transitions in-between are executed with a minimum of hand and arm movements. My movements are continuous and I look to avoid retracing arcs with the weapon.
The weapons work I do is employed strictly for Ki development and physical conditioning. I decided many years ago that the probability of my getting into an altercation involving bokkens or jo staffs was reasonably minuscule and that perhaps alternative forms of weapons training would better suit me. Consequently I derived my method of practice and have abandoned conflict based scenario training. In addition, all the forms I employ are "off the cuff" in that none of them are worked out before hand. I never cared for fixed katas that had to be memorized like multiplication tables. I want my Aikido to be spontaneous and feel that long sequences of prearranged movements stifle spontaneity.
Below are a couple of short clips of some free form movement.
Bokken free movement
Jo staff free movement
The weapons work I do is employed strictly for Ki development and physical conditioning. I decided many years ago that the probability of my getting into an altercation involving bokkens or jo staffs was reasonably minuscule and that perhaps alternative forms of weapons training would better suit me. Consequently I derived my method of practice and have abandoned conflict based scenario training. In addition, all the forms I employ are "off the cuff" in that none of them are worked out before hand. I never cared for fixed katas that had to be memorized like multiplication tables. I want my Aikido to be spontaneous and feel that long sequences of prearranged movements stifle spontaneity.
Below are a couple of short clips of some free form movement.
Bokken free movement
Jo staff free movement
Friday, July 22, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-seven
Solo Ki exercises are a core element of my practice. They aid me in developing focus and mastering the basic movements from which technique grows.
Ki testing enables me to gauge my progress in the strengthening of correct feeling. A Ki test involves my interacting with a partner. These tests require that my partner push, pull, lift or compress various places on my body while I either remain stationary or move with intent, in either case ignoring the pressure being applied. When I am the tester I am careful to apply force in such a way as to aid my partner rather than demonstrating to my partner how strong I am. Ki testing is a cooperative endeavor. My goal as tester is to help my partner grow stronger.
Ki tests also provide me with a set of exercises that I use to strengthen correct feeling. As my correct feeling grows stronger my partner will provide more and more force for me to deal with. This has the same effect as lifting weights does for my muscles; gradually increasing the amount of weight lifted will, over time, strengthen muscle tissue. Gradually increasing the amount of force I have to deal with in Ki testing will, over time, strengthen correct feeling. I have posted about this before, but the idea is so central to my development in Aikido that I feel it warrants repeating.
Ki testing enables me to gauge my progress in the strengthening of correct feeling. A Ki test involves my interacting with a partner. These tests require that my partner push, pull, lift or compress various places on my body while I either remain stationary or move with intent, in either case ignoring the pressure being applied. When I am the tester I am careful to apply force in such a way as to aid my partner rather than demonstrating to my partner how strong I am. Ki testing is a cooperative endeavor. My goal as tester is to help my partner grow stronger.
Ki tests also provide me with a set of exercises that I use to strengthen correct feeling. As my correct feeling grows stronger my partner will provide more and more force for me to deal with. This has the same effect as lifting weights does for my muscles; gradually increasing the amount of weight lifted will, over time, strengthen muscle tissue. Gradually increasing the amount of force I have to deal with in Ki testing will, over time, strengthen correct feeling. I have posted about this before, but the idea is so central to my development in Aikido that I feel it warrants repeating.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-six
Synergy is the phenomenon in which the combined action of a coordinated mind and body is greater than the sum of their effects individually.
So, how do I develop correct feeling?
First I need to know what correct feeling is. Correct feeling arises when I have coordination of mind and body. Super, but what does it mean to have coordination of mind and body? Coordination of mind and body is the synergistic relationship of both that represents my strongest, most dependable state. When my mind and body are coordinated I am able to perform at my peak efficiency; I am said to have correct feeling.
It's important to note that correct feeling isn't an on/off state of being. I always possess mind/body coordination to some degree. Generally speaking, the closer my mind is to "now" the greater the degree of my correct feeling. Since my body is always in the present moment, the closer my mind approaches the moment, the greater are my mind and body coordinated. Carrying this further it can be seen that the degree of correct feeling approaches a limit defined by "now" since my mind must always lag behind the moment by some amount of time. If correct feeling is, therefore, the natural state of my being it would seem that there is no need for me to develop it. What is needed, and afforded by my Aikido training, is the ability to strengthen and enhance correct feeling.
When I first began studying Aikido there came a month in which classes were suspended. I decided to practice Ki exercises every day on my own until classes resumed. This decision, I believe, had a profound effect on my internalizing the idea of coordinated mind and body. Years later I went through a period of time when I neglected Ki exercises in favor of waza. It was during, what was dubbed by one of my students at the time, my "One Throw One Kill" period which, thankfully, I managed to outgrow. With my interest in Ki development renewed I have since made doing Ki exercises a twice daily routine. As a result, to borrow from and paraphrase a line from Bob Dylan: Ah, but I was so much younger then, older I'm stronger than then now.
For me the secret of strengthening and enhancing correct feeling was locked away in the relatively simple movements of the solo Ki exercises. These exercises allow me to focus my mind ever closer to the moment as my body performs the physical movements. Continued daily practice of these exercises enhances my Aikido experience and I strongly recommend to my students that they adopt this regimen for themselves.
So, how do I develop correct feeling?
First I need to know what correct feeling is. Correct feeling arises when I have coordination of mind and body. Super, but what does it mean to have coordination of mind and body? Coordination of mind and body is the synergistic relationship of both that represents my strongest, most dependable state. When my mind and body are coordinated I am able to perform at my peak efficiency; I am said to have correct feeling.
It's important to note that correct feeling isn't an on/off state of being. I always possess mind/body coordination to some degree. Generally speaking, the closer my mind is to "now" the greater the degree of my correct feeling. Since my body is always in the present moment, the closer my mind approaches the moment, the greater are my mind and body coordinated. Carrying this further it can be seen that the degree of correct feeling approaches a limit defined by "now" since my mind must always lag behind the moment by some amount of time. If correct feeling is, therefore, the natural state of my being it would seem that there is no need for me to develop it. What is needed, and afforded by my Aikido training, is the ability to strengthen and enhance correct feeling.
When I first began studying Aikido there came a month in which classes were suspended. I decided to practice Ki exercises every day on my own until classes resumed. This decision, I believe, had a profound effect on my internalizing the idea of coordinated mind and body. Years later I went through a period of time when I neglected Ki exercises in favor of waza. It was during, what was dubbed by one of my students at the time, my "One Throw One Kill" period which, thankfully, I managed to outgrow. With my interest in Ki development renewed I have since made doing Ki exercises a twice daily routine. As a result, to borrow from and paraphrase a line from Bob Dylan: Ah, but I was so much younger then, older I'm stronger than then now.
For me the secret of strengthening and enhancing correct feeling was locked away in the relatively simple movements of the solo Ki exercises. These exercises allow me to focus my mind ever closer to the moment as my body performs the physical movements. Continued daily practice of these exercises enhances my Aikido experience and I strongly recommend to my students that they adopt this regimen for themselves.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-five
Mary had us do an interesting Ki exercise last night. It goes as follows:
My partner and I face each other and he puts both hands on my shoulders. He then begins to push me backward. I accept his push and walk backward as he continues to push. At some point I stop and from natural stance, with him still pushing, begin to walk forward. When pushing I should maintain an even, continuous push throughout. It's not a contest, my aim is to use the appropriate amount of force to maximize the benefit of my partner.
Points for me to work on while practicing this exercise:
My partner and I face each other and he puts both hands on my shoulders. He then begins to push me backward. I accept his push and walk backward as he continues to push. At some point I stop and from natural stance, with him still pushing, begin to walk forward. When pushing I should maintain an even, continuous push throughout. It's not a contest, my aim is to use the appropriate amount of force to maximize the benefit of my partner.
Points for me to work on while practicing this exercise:
- Connect with his center before contact is made and maintain that connection throughout the duration of the exercise (Keep One Point),
- Keep my body erect, don't lean in from the shoulders (Correct Posture),
- Slow down to a stop; this enables me to absorb the force of his push gradually instead of having to take it all on at once (Progressive Relaxation),
- When starting to move forward be aware of the primary direction of the force of his push and connect with it at an angle as I begin to move forward. Not directly engaging his power allows me to move forward with relative ease (Positive Mind).
With continued practice I will be able to:
- Strengthen my connection with his center,
- Improve my posture,
- Shorten the time it takes to slow to a stop,
- Improve my ability to ascertain the primary direction of the force of his push.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-four
My mind/body coordination in the context of Aikido is revealing itself to be both increasingly complex and subtle as I delve deeper into my study. I was taught that my mind leads my body. Seems simple enough on the surface, my mind says "go there" and my body goes there. No problem, my mind leads my body.
There is a problem though. As soon as I enter into an interaction with my partner my mind ceases to issue orders. There is no "go there" or "do this" or "watch out for that" or "ah ha, yokomen, how about executing a shihonage?" or anything else. My conscious mind simply goes silent. The everyday mind/body duality vanishes and my coordinated mind/body meets and interacts with my partner according to the dictates of the situation. When my mind and body are coordinated there's no need for conscious thought before action; it's as though my consciousness becomes distributed throughout my body at a cellular level, like the group mind of the Borg from Star Trek only limited to just me. My body simultaneously initiates movement as it reacts to the movement of my partner without any conscious guidance or directives. The short version of this state is called correct feeling.
How I go about coordinating mind and body has to do with the differing natures of both. My physical body is always in the moment, at now. My awareness of the state and location of my body is always slightly behind the actuality of both due to the time required for the processing of sensory input. My mind therefore must always slightly lag my body when it comes to their relationships to now. To coordinate mind and body it is necessary for my consciousness to approach now as closely as possible and shrink the lag between sensory input and action. Training, therefore, is a process of honing my skill at approaching now. Coordinating mind and body when seen this way isn't an either you have it or you don't proposition. It becomes obvious that there are degrees of mind/body coordination and that the degree of coordination is dependent upon the speed which I am able to process sensory input. That speed is, in turn, a function of how close to now my consciousness is able to get. The closer my consciousness approaches now, the more I contract my conscious frame of reference and consequently the greater my awareness grows. As my frame of reference contracts I am subjected to less information requiring processing; and since my awareness has been magnified, this information is processed more quickly. Aikido study provides me with a complete syllabus for the development of correct feeling within the context of a martial art. Ki exercises, technique and their corresponding intellectual underpinnings are all designed to integrate mind and body and focus my intent on the goal of correct feeling.
Correct feeling is a state of being. To attain correct feeling and strengthen it has become the core of my practice.
There is a problem though. As soon as I enter into an interaction with my partner my mind ceases to issue orders. There is no "go there" or "do this" or "watch out for that" or "ah ha, yokomen, how about executing a shihonage?" or anything else. My conscious mind simply goes silent. The everyday mind/body duality vanishes and my coordinated mind/body meets and interacts with my partner according to the dictates of the situation. When my mind and body are coordinated there's no need for conscious thought before action; it's as though my consciousness becomes distributed throughout my body at a cellular level, like the group mind of the Borg from Star Trek only limited to just me. My body simultaneously initiates movement as it reacts to the movement of my partner without any conscious guidance or directives. The short version of this state is called correct feeling.
How I go about coordinating mind and body has to do with the differing natures of both. My physical body is always in the moment, at now. My awareness of the state and location of my body is always slightly behind the actuality of both due to the time required for the processing of sensory input. My mind therefore must always slightly lag my body when it comes to their relationships to now. To coordinate mind and body it is necessary for my consciousness to approach now as closely as possible and shrink the lag between sensory input and action. Training, therefore, is a process of honing my skill at approaching now. Coordinating mind and body when seen this way isn't an either you have it or you don't proposition. It becomes obvious that there are degrees of mind/body coordination and that the degree of coordination is dependent upon the speed which I am able to process sensory input. That speed is, in turn, a function of how close to now my consciousness is able to get. The closer my consciousness approaches now, the more I contract my conscious frame of reference and consequently the greater my awareness grows. As my frame of reference contracts I am subjected to less information requiring processing; and since my awareness has been magnified, this information is processed more quickly. Aikido study provides me with a complete syllabus for the development of correct feeling within the context of a martial art. Ki exercises, technique and their corresponding intellectual underpinnings are all designed to integrate mind and body and focus my intent on the goal of correct feeling.
Correct feeling is a state of being. To attain correct feeling and strengthen it has become the core of my practice.
Monday, May 2, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-three
We had our annual Spring Fling seminar Sunday. The early morning grey cloud ceiling gave way to bright sunshine illuminating a cobalt sky, completely free of clouds, just as we began class. The temperature seemed to jump 10 or 15 degrees in a matter of minutes so we raised the overhead doors and windows to let in the light and warmth.
Mary and I chose "always practice the Art of Peace in a vibrant and joyful manner" (Ueshiba Morihei) as our theme. It seemed appropriate in light of the hard dark winter season that has finally given up it's ghost to the promise of renewal heralded by the arrival of spring. As I watched people practice throughout the three hours I saw smiles freely given and accepted. Warmth and good cheer suffused the room and was radiated out through the open doors and windows. The flowers on the lone forsythia bordering our woody back yard seemed just a little yellower and brighter; a trick of the light I'm sure.
Looking around at the people practicing together, laughing, smiling, supporting one another through the rough spots of this or that drill, finding their own Aikido in the midst of the group Aikido they're helping to create; I wonder if this isn't what O Sensei intended for Aikido to be. Did he envision Aikido as a way for people all over the world to come together in relatively small groups and practice his art in the spirit of friendship and cooperation? I hope so. It is, has been for 34 years and will continue to be the focus of my practice.
Mary and I chose "always practice the Art of Peace in a vibrant and joyful manner" (Ueshiba Morihei) as our theme. It seemed appropriate in light of the hard dark winter season that has finally given up it's ghost to the promise of renewal heralded by the arrival of spring. As I watched people practice throughout the three hours I saw smiles freely given and accepted. Warmth and good cheer suffused the room and was radiated out through the open doors and windows. The flowers on the lone forsythia bordering our woody back yard seemed just a little yellower and brighter; a trick of the light I'm sure.
Looking around at the people practicing together, laughing, smiling, supporting one another through the rough spots of this or that drill, finding their own Aikido in the midst of the group Aikido they're helping to create; I wonder if this isn't what O Sensei intended for Aikido to be. Did he envision Aikido as a way for people all over the world to come together in relatively small groups and practice his art in the spirit of friendship and cooperation? I hope so. It is, has been for 34 years and will continue to be the focus of my practice.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
One Hundred and Ninety-two
We sat in her Fire Room in the hour before dawn looking out over Deep Cut Gorge that made its way past her house eastward to the Great Ocean. The Long River Winding, wide though it was, appeared from here as a thin black line bisecting the snow covered valley floor in a series of S curves that gave it the appearance of a long snake meandering along on some errand known only to itself. The rising sun coming up over the edge of the Wide World would soon transform the snake into a ribbon of golden fire and paint the undulating snow covered sides of the gorge in that same hue for the few short moments when the angles of the its rays were just so.
Though the room was warm, heated as it was by a large fire in a pit centered in the room, she sat on the soft intricately patterned carpet swathed in a blanket of Weaver's finest wool. I sat by her side and while she stared at the slowly rising sun I looked at her. The Master of Anywhere returned my gaze not, she simply sat there, age wizened and composed, taking in the Dawning of Another Day.
"I am of the Morning, Student. The day delivers me from the draining darkness of the Night, the hollow blackness of which robs me of color and warmth. So here I sit each Morning to greet the sun to be replenished. I am old, Student. I have seen many, many Risings, each unique from all others, each an offering of another day of limitless possibility."
The sun crested the horizon and a line of fire seemed to run westward along the river. I said nothing. Slowly the faint ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth, brought forth, it seemed to me, as the memory of some long ago event in her life stubbornly wormed its way into her consciousness. I said nothing. Waited.
"I did not bid you hither Student and yet you are here. I shall take that as a sign that your arrival is not without purpose." Though her voice was barely above that of the hiss of gently falling snow she spoke still with the power of Command which relies on volume not a whit.
"I call you Student yet you are no student of mine, nor, I sense, of any other Master. You have chosen, like me, to trod your own path and hence are a Student not of any teacher, but of your Art." She sighed, a small sound deep in her throat. "It is a Solitary Road, is it not, Student?"
Without waiting for an answer she continued.
"I have many things to tell you Student. And, I fear, less time than I should like in which to speak my tale. You may well wonder why it is not one of my students sitting across from me instead of you. The answer is simple really, I have sent them all on their respective ways. Each carries a portion of my story, sees me as I was during their time with me. It is powerful imagery and I wish not to disturb it with counter and sometimes conflicting views of myself. But to you I will reveal the full story of my life, if, that is, you will be kind enough to sit and listen, for it is long in the telling."
I don't, to this day, know how long I spent with her listening to her autobiography. Time moves differently in Anywhere and the Master of Anywhere seemed in no particular hurry to complete her task. That I thought slightly out of sync with her statement that she had less time than she would like to spend in the telling. I let the thought drift away fascinated, as I was, with her narration.
As I walked with her down the corridors of her life I began to see the unfolding of her Art. A reflection it was of her being, its essence expressed in motion. So skillfully did she relate her history that I was able to delineate the different stages of the development of her Art. I saw how her Art was so very intertwined with who she was and how, as she grew and changed, so too did the Art she was simultaneously creating and living. At times I wondered whether I was hearing the story of a single person; so distinct were the personalities she rendered in the tale at the different stages of her life. No small wonder it was that her Students, let loose upon the Wide World, would eventually each present an Art representative of hers, while none would ever capture the full flavor, for that belonged to her alone and would pass out of the Wide World with her departure. So it must be with all Artists, I thought. An Art, after all, is not something the Artist does, it is something the Artist is; and that is-ness demands to be shared. And so it was with the Master of Anywhere; for beauty aches to be revealed and she must display it lest her Art fully consume her with its intensity.
I was vaguely aware of the passing of the seasons; the unfolding of hours, days and weeks being too continuously connected to be noticed. Winter passed and Spring arrived with melting snows and aromas of renewal. A day would come when no chill could be noticed on the breeze; the herald of Summer, all growth and bloom. The first blushes of yellow, orange and red appeared in the trees as Autumn announced its arrival, only too shortly, to give way once more to the barren beauty of Winter. And so it went, for how long I know not.
Each morning I would rise before dawn and seek her out in the Fire Room. Each morning I would find her seated, wrapped in her blanket, waiting. I took to varying my time of arrival and never once got there before her. When at last I was seated beside her she would pick up her story from where she had left it the previous day; so seamlessly, that I wondered if she was even aware of the interval of time that had elapsed between our Sittings. And then came a day I arrived in the Fire Room only to find it empty. In the place where she customarily sat wrapped in her blanket was an envelope; one word inked into its surface - Student...
Though the room was warm, heated as it was by a large fire in a pit centered in the room, she sat on the soft intricately patterned carpet swathed in a blanket of Weaver's finest wool. I sat by her side and while she stared at the slowly rising sun I looked at her. The Master of Anywhere returned my gaze not, she simply sat there, age wizened and composed, taking in the Dawning of Another Day.
"I am of the Morning, Student. The day delivers me from the draining darkness of the Night, the hollow blackness of which robs me of color and warmth. So here I sit each Morning to greet the sun to be replenished. I am old, Student. I have seen many, many Risings, each unique from all others, each an offering of another day of limitless possibility."
The sun crested the horizon and a line of fire seemed to run westward along the river. I said nothing. Slowly the faint ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth, brought forth, it seemed to me, as the memory of some long ago event in her life stubbornly wormed its way into her consciousness. I said nothing. Waited.
"I did not bid you hither Student and yet you are here. I shall take that as a sign that your arrival is not without purpose." Though her voice was barely above that of the hiss of gently falling snow she spoke still with the power of Command which relies on volume not a whit.
"I call you Student yet you are no student of mine, nor, I sense, of any other Master. You have chosen, like me, to trod your own path and hence are a Student not of any teacher, but of your Art." She sighed, a small sound deep in her throat. "It is a Solitary Road, is it not, Student?"
Without waiting for an answer she continued.
"I have many things to tell you Student. And, I fear, less time than I should like in which to speak my tale. You may well wonder why it is not one of my students sitting across from me instead of you. The answer is simple really, I have sent them all on their respective ways. Each carries a portion of my story, sees me as I was during their time with me. It is powerful imagery and I wish not to disturb it with counter and sometimes conflicting views of myself. But to you I will reveal the full story of my life, if, that is, you will be kind enough to sit and listen, for it is long in the telling."
I don't, to this day, know how long I spent with her listening to her autobiography. Time moves differently in Anywhere and the Master of Anywhere seemed in no particular hurry to complete her task. That I thought slightly out of sync with her statement that she had less time than she would like to spend in the telling. I let the thought drift away fascinated, as I was, with her narration.
As I walked with her down the corridors of her life I began to see the unfolding of her Art. A reflection it was of her being, its essence expressed in motion. So skillfully did she relate her history that I was able to delineate the different stages of the development of her Art. I saw how her Art was so very intertwined with who she was and how, as she grew and changed, so too did the Art she was simultaneously creating and living. At times I wondered whether I was hearing the story of a single person; so distinct were the personalities she rendered in the tale at the different stages of her life. No small wonder it was that her Students, let loose upon the Wide World, would eventually each present an Art representative of hers, while none would ever capture the full flavor, for that belonged to her alone and would pass out of the Wide World with her departure. So it must be with all Artists, I thought. An Art, after all, is not something the Artist does, it is something the Artist is; and that is-ness demands to be shared. And so it was with the Master of Anywhere; for beauty aches to be revealed and she must display it lest her Art fully consume her with its intensity.
I was vaguely aware of the passing of the seasons; the unfolding of hours, days and weeks being too continuously connected to be noticed. Winter passed and Spring arrived with melting snows and aromas of renewal. A day would come when no chill could be noticed on the breeze; the herald of Summer, all growth and bloom. The first blushes of yellow, orange and red appeared in the trees as Autumn announced its arrival, only too shortly, to give way once more to the barren beauty of Winter. And so it went, for how long I know not.
Each morning I would rise before dawn and seek her out in the Fire Room. Each morning I would find her seated, wrapped in her blanket, waiting. I took to varying my time of arrival and never once got there before her. When at last I was seated beside her she would pick up her story from where she had left it the previous day; so seamlessly, that I wondered if she was even aware of the interval of time that had elapsed between our Sittings. And then came a day I arrived in the Fire Room only to find it empty. In the place where she customarily sat wrapped in her blanket was an envelope; one word inked into its surface - Student...
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