The Dive

A couple of years ago, I was invited by a local art gallery to preview an art exhibit, choose a painting and write a poem referencing that painting.  The painting that spoke to me was of an adolescent girl wearing a swimsuit, standing at the end of a diving board, preparing to dive.  Her body looked rigid, almost like the diving board itself.  Shoulders were raised nearly to her ears; her mouth was tense and straight.  Below is the poem I wrote.

I am not there to read this poem to you.  I’d like you to read it quietly once.  And then, read it aloud to yourself or to someone else.  Feel the poem.  Pretend that you are the diver.

The Dive
©by Christine O’Brien

Feet plugged into the
sticky resin springboard,
I note the space between me and
the crushing water below.
The form I hold.
Buddha stillness.
The grace I invoke
as I design form
gliding through space.
The breath I hold.
The breath I take
like thunder in a canyon
fills my ears.
The shadow of fear
remains at the other end
of the platform
while I stand on the edge
in focused repose.

This is not my first dive
though my raised shoulders,
clamped mouth and clenched jaw
could be interpreted as fear.
There is always that
but with prayer and practice
it quickly transforms
as there is no turning back now.
The dive grooms the diver
in this conspiracy of grace, form and space.
Originally, it was a dare from friends
that sent me up the hot aluminum ladder
on that sweaty summer day.
Now, it’s a drive from within,
not towards perfection
or for judges’ scores.
There is no competition.

It is the ecstasy of flight
that sends me to this precipice.
Neither bird nor stone falling through space,
I am a wingless angel
who rejoices in
those few seconds of airtime.
Body imprinting space
air molecules conforming, buoyant.
I visualize the flex, fold, arc,
the straightening as
I neatly incise the water with my hands,
barely a splash.
I surface a few feet away,
victorious,
a different sort of Phoenix rising.

****
And then I made my own painting of another sort of dive by another sort of creature.

card27

 

She Looks Upon the Land

I live in the forested mountains of Northern California.  It is nearing the Fourth of July.  When it’s not a time of Covid, we have a huge influx of tourists (around 3,000 people) to celebrate the holiday.  It’s been fun in the past.  However, due to the virus, the event was cancelled.  Honestly, it’s a relief for many reasons.  One being, the long term drought in California.  The tinder-dry forested area isn’t a place for fireworks.  (It’s hard to believe that they allow fireworks in such an area!)

A few days ago, when I noticed the Safe and Sane Fireworks Booth going up by the local supermarket, I felt myself tense up.  Honestly, I cannot believe that a mountainous area would ever sell fireworks and permit their use.  This shows a great disconnect.  We’ve had several years where we’ve been living on pins and needles as forest fires have encroached.  We’ve lived with months of intense smoke that obliterated the usual pristine vistas.  We’ve been prepared to evacuate should the fires get any closer.  We’ve watched neighboring communities be forced to evacuate and witnessed a complete town, Paradise, CA, succumb to fires.  And not too far south of us, in Redding, CA where my sisters live, I stood watch with them hoping that the Carr Fire would be contained, controlled and put out!

I wrote to my local City Council expressing my concerns.  The sale of fireworks has been a profitable fundraiser for a local club.  It’s been done this way for awhile–sort of entrenched system that I’m coming up against.  Safe and Sane Fireworks, according to the local Fire Chief, have not caused problems…it’s been the illegal ones that cause harm.
Regardless, my bottom line is that fireworks of any type should be banned in forested areas!  Does that seem like common sense to you?  It does to me.  Better foresight than hindsight.

She just knows
© by Christine O’Brien

She looks upon the land and she just knows

That things could be much better than they are.

we day tripping visitors blink and doze

While wise ones see into the future, far.

When hindsight and foresight fall by the way

And the many lessons offered aren’t learned

As media hype says what it may

Through promoting fear, their paychecks are earned.

What else is new across this span of strife?

Humans burying their heads in the sand

We hear past echoes and we join the chime

“we can’t make a difference, one small life.”

Remember, holding hands, we are many.

Infused with earth love, we are not puny.

Forest

 

“Creativity is not Comfortable”

Awhile ago, I jotted down this quote from Billy Wilder,  “an Austro-Hungarian born American filmmaker, screenwriter, producer, artist, and journalist….”  He is long gone from this earth plane…however, as you know, quotes live on.

Creative beings who’ve been practicing their art, know this quote–“Creativity is not comfortable”–in a deeply experiential way.  They understand the edges, precipices, walls; the angst, internal subterfuge and the pushing through.  They understand the daring and the doing despite doubts, fears and/or internal or external pressure to halt!

Why is creating so uncomfortable?  I think it is partly because when you are fully in the creative process, you, yourself go through changes as you create.

TRANSFORMATION could be a synonym for creativity.

Webster’s Dictionary, in defining transformation says “…to change a thing into a different thing.  Transform implies a major change in form, nature, or function…”

mandala.2017ITS

On the canvas, I resist because things are going to be disrupted and perhaps even “ugly” for awhile.  If I am attached to what is on the canvas, it’s going to be hard to let it go.  When I’m backed into a creative corner, I have to make a move that can feel forced upon me in some way.  There is a risk as I leave my comfort zone and engage the unknown. This whole process brings to my awareness the stuck places inside of me, the resistance and lack of daring.  It’s complex, right?

Ultimately, I love my creations, whether poetry, prose, painting or crafting.  And I often surprise myself with what comes.

Writing Prompt:
Do you prefer your “comfort zone” when it comes to writing or making art?  Or do you enjoy the adventure beyond comfort?  When you venture past the borders of the familiar, do you experience doubt as to whether or not you can create something that is “successful”?  Is that a fair requirement of yourself as you are in this process?  And, do you care about what others are going to think?  Do you make that more important than staying true to your artist’s journey?

Write your answers to these questions in your writer’s journal.  Be truthful with yourself.