A Heart Sutra of Sorts

A heart sutra of sorts:

it’s the same words, always — nothing is new but their arrangement, and with this comes infinite means of expression with every session writing. This is my chance to explore the possibilities of an empty page, to trade space for words, and allow some meaning to emerge. Everything I write is a heart sutra of sorts, simply an exchange of one thing in a different show of emptiness to form.

to be creative is really just to allow what’s present to make itself known. Inspiration is always available and only needs to bypass my internal edit system, the critic with a wish to take charge before even a single word appears. There’s an insistent call for meaning, that every page hold some secret that only this author can reveal. It’s this belief in the special privilege of an artist that often prevents true art from appearing. Too many voices from the very beginning, arguing for control.

the truth is there is no control.

there really isn’t even an artist — there’s only life with an urge to be expressed through the means of words, or lens, or stroke of brush. It’s all art in constant happening. Each moment I sit and write. It’s not a time spent in search of words. They will make their appearance known and through patience I will be aware of their arrival. It’s then that I play with their arrangement, the magic of an…