Robinson Jeffers: From source to sea-mouth one flowing life.

Contemplative Watercolor Experiments

I’ve been deep into studying Picasso’s journals of preliminary sketches lately, and been experimenting with my own rough, quick watercolors and acrylic ink paintings. Inspired by the ancient poetry of the mountain hermits that means to much to me, these quickly executed paintings are abstract and Zen-like in their simplicity. I will begin to include them here in the Zen Mountain Journal — preliminary creative ideas from the outer peripheries of my vision. The idea is to plumb the depths of deep imagination, so to speak, and see what bubbles up.

These posts will continue to include, as did today’s, the ancient poetry of Taoist hermits and Zen monks of old Japan. I’ll also include recent notes from my own journal which are selected from what I’m reading, thinking about, struggling with.

When I look at the two-page spread above the concept of a a new journal comes to mind. The image on the left accompanied by a blank page on the right for reader notes and sketches. And then moving the words and images on the right to the next two pages — images and words on the left and a blank page on the right. I’m going to start to work on that.

The Tao Te Ching Journal: Updates and Reviews

The first printing of the Tao Te Ching sold out. More paper arrived at the printer today for a second printing and there will be more journals in about a week.

Some readers have taken the time to write and offer their reaction to the work. You can see those early reviews here.

You can order the hardcover layflat journal here. $67. Shipping $3.99
Members ship free.

Order the PDF of the Tao Te Ching Journal here. ($9.99)

. . .

The text from today’s post:

Wandering the River’s Edge

Now thirty-six years have somehow flowed by.
Time passes and disappears; all there is is today.

I wander under clear skies,
And meet up with friends and sit on the river’s bank.

Fish weave gently against the current;
birds drift by headed to distant valleys.

The ridges in the distance carry memories
Of solitude and quiet days.

I pour wine for my friends and myself,
and we toast this special day:

Who knows how many times we’ll share
our friendship again in this way. Maybe never.

A few more cups, and

I forget old sorrows
Tomorrow too distant to think about.
-After T’ao Ch’ien’s ‘Wandering at Oblique Creek’ (401 CE), Zen Mountain Journal interpretation.

. . .

Erase the lines: I pray you not to love classifications:
The thing is like a river, from source to sea-mouth
One flowing life.
- Robinson Jeffers, from the poem “Monument”

. . .

Reflection

Rivers have long captured my imagination and I’ve spent many weeks and months of my life paddling them, both on long wilderness trips and whitewater kayaking. That interest, and my interest in ancient Taoist poetry, was what inspired me to create the book Wild Waters and Tao, which I published in 2013 and which quickly sold out. I’m thinking through now what a sequel might look like.

Before Heron Dance was Heron Dance it was a book that couldn’t find a publisher. The working title of that book was Free Spirits and it included excerpts from my interview of Verlen Kruger who paddled more miles than anyone else ever has in recorded history — over 100,000 miles. His trips included the entire length of the Pacific coast of the US and Canada, the Grand Canyon upstream and the Amazon upstream.

Here’s an excerpt from that interview:

A river is life. A river attracts life. Rivers are always changing -- the water constantly changes, the wildlife changes. Rivers are movement, life, growth. The rivers are the arteries of the earth. They are what transfers life. Wildlife is attracted. People are attracted. Civilizations grow along waterways.

A river comes from somewhere and it goes somewhere. Where does it go? Can I go along? I cannot look at a river without wondering where the water is going. Ultimately it goes where all good waters go -- to the great sea beyond.

Sitting by a wild river, just listening can be a deeply spiritual experience. Something deep inside us resonates with wild water.

A close friend from my twenties has MS and spends much of his day sending his friends interesting things he finds on the internet. Knowing of my interest in indigenous peoples, emailed me recently about a book he’s reading, Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S. C. Gwynne. He included in the email some images of paintings that were actually of the Mandan by George Catlin — an artist financed by J.P. Morgan to document the last days of the plains Indians.