{"id":1851,"date":"2011-11-04T14:44:57","date_gmt":"2011-11-04T18:44:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/beginnersheart\/?p=1851"},"modified":"2011-11-04T14:48:55","modified_gmt":"2011-11-04T18:48:55","slug":"serving-art","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/beginnersheart\/2011\/11\/serving-art.html","title":{"rendered":"serving art ~"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/beginnersheart\/files\/2011\/10\/quilt-7_women-alice-walker.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-thumbnail wp-image-1956\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/239\/2011\/10\/quilt-7_women-alice-walker-150x150.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" \/><\/a>Alice Walker, in her wonderful essay <a href=\"http:\/\/www.msmagazine.com\/spring2002\/walker.asp\" target=\"_blank\"><em>In Search of Our Mothers&#8217; Gardens<\/em><\/a>, reminds us that for many women the only creativity they could manage was useful. A garden &#8212; like my grandmother&#8217;s, like my great-aunt&#8217;s &#8212; of fragrant sweet pea and Peace roses and okra and potatoes and green beans. Mostly things you could eat. Or a &#8216;useful&#8217; quilt &#8212; like my mother&#8217;s, like my grandmother&#8217;s &#8212; carefully sewn from colour-matched bits of dresses, shirts, blouses and rags. Nothing going to waste, ever. And maybe &#8212; but only if you had time, rare as money &#8212; a window full of African violets, a border sprawling Missouri primrose onto the walk beside.<\/p>\n<p>This was the art of women for centuries, at least the women I come from. We were never &#8216;someones&#8217;; we were always worker bees, not queens. Perhaps ladies of leisure embroidered, penned a courtly sonnet, painted w\/ a <em>sumie<\/em> brush on rice paper. We were not those women. We had to make bargains fro the crumbs of time that allowed us to create oases of beauty <a href=\"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/beginnersheart\/files\/2011\/11\/hourglass1.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignright size-thumbnail wp-image-2026\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/239\/2011\/11\/hourglass1-150x150.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"105\" height=\"105\" \/><\/a>in our ordinary lives.<\/p>\n<p>I wrote a poem about the forces that conspire to keep us &#8212; women, and sometimes men &#8212; from creating art. In effect, we sell our souls to the devils who need us. Those incredibly seductive infant devils, who reach up their tiny dimpled arms to us. The blue-eyed devils who beckon when we&#8217;re in our 20s. The devils of <em>clean<\/em> and <em>care for <\/em>and <em>smile<\/em> and <em>nice<\/em>. The demons that cultures around the world &#8212; and throughout time &#8212; have turned loose on women who presume to create anything other than children.<\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_2030\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-2030\" style=\"width: 150px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.google.com\/imgres?imgurl=http:\/\/www.danieljohnsonart.com\/sitebuildercontent\/sitebuilderpictures\/art\/voices.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http:\/\/www.danieljohnsonart.com\/voices.html&amp;h=2448&amp;w=3264&amp;sz=2116&amp;tbnid=fkJRZ8Igx2krbM:&amp;tbnh=88&amp;tbnw=117&amp;zoom=1&amp;docid=772-wqQKsX5FCM&amp;sa=X&amp;ei=dTG0TvL4CMnO2wWo0pTPDQ&amp;ved=0CF8Q9QEwEA&amp;dur=2940\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-thumbnail wp-image-2030\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/239\/2011\/11\/voices-150x150.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-2030\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">art by Daniel Johnson<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>So when the insistent inner voice that is the nascent poem whispers, and I succumb, I sometimes &#8212; even now, years later &#8212; feel guilty. Feel for all the women before me, the women in my line who had no choices. Although honestly? They&#8217;d probably be dead by now &#8212; victims of childbirth, childbed fever, violence of one sort or another.<\/p>\n<p>Still, my gut insists, art does not feed us. It does not clothe or house the child, nor set the table w\/ meat and potatoes. None of these does my putting pen to journal page, or fingers to keyboard, accomplish.<\/p>\n<p>What it does do is open a kind of skylight &#8212; a round hole that lets light in to the dark places inside me. Those corners of an ostensibly curvilinear beginner&#8217;s heart. It swirls like fresh autumn air through cobwebs, fills me with light as ripe as pears, and it really does feed some almost-always hungry part of me.<\/p>\n<p>That&#8217;s a lot. And today? It&#8217;s enough.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Alice Walker, in her wonderful essay In Search of Our Mothers&#8217; Gardens, reminds us that for many women the only creativity they could manage was useful. A garden &#8212; like my grandmother&#8217;s, like my great-aunt&#8217;s &#8212; of fragrant sweet pea and Peace roses and okra and potatoes and green beans. Mostly things you could eat.&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":398,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[17,90,58],"tags":[11,1181,1187],"class_list":["post-1851","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-buddhism","category-feeding-your-inner-artist","category-writing","tag-beginners-heart","tag-britton-gildersleeve","tag-buddhism"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v23.9 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>serving art ~ - Beginner&#039;s Heart<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Alice Walker, in her wonderful essay In Search of Our Mothers&#039; Gardens, reminds us that for many women the only creativity they could manage was useful. 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Years spent living on the margins - in places with exotic names and food shortages - have left her with a visceral response to folks \u2018without,\u2019 as well as a desire to live her Buddhism in an engaged fashion. She\u2019s a writer and a teacher, the former director of a federal non-profit for teachers who write. She believes that if we talk to each other, we can learn to love each other (but she's still learning how). And she believes in tea. 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