SEMPER FIDELIS
From my little haven of peace in Saint-Cast (Brittany) — the second studio — I contemplate Cézembre* and the " Grand Jardin " lighthouse, just opposite, a few cables away. They symbolize the maritime gateway to Saint-Malo and I wonder about what has always brought me back to this city.
Often, I seriously considered moving far away, to live in the Great Lakes region of the USA, in Japan or in " les Bauges" in the French Alps. And then I traveled a lot, alone and far, motivated each time by an aspiration to find meaning, either through movement by accompanying children through drawing (compassion in action), or by sitting during retreats in American, Japanese or even Bhutanese monasteries (meditation).
But irrepressibly, I always return to this city which, however, is gradually becoming uglier: Saint-Malo where crude concrete and tourism make the sky, the beauty, the good life disapear.
Are there many people who are born, live and die in the same city? In the same house? This seems to me to be wildly outdated, to have a scent of Guy de Maupassant. The very beautiful chapter “ Immobility as an Act ” from André Tubeuf’s book [ “Bach ou le meilleur des Mondes ”, Ed. Le Passeur] comes to mind, which begins thus:
"Bach was extraordinarily immobile, fanatically one might say, and by passion, by act of the soul."
Tubeuf writes further:
“Stability is not a virtue. It is a state. Virtue, on the other hand, is the bringing into play of forces drawn from elsewhere, to thwart the innate drive that pushes everything to destabilize, to unravel, to lean rather than to tend. The virtue that, without naming it, Bach cultivated in the environment and the insertion that were and will remain his, is consent (but is there anything more absolute?), what Nietzsche will greet with the name of amor fati or better, supreme degree in its apparent erasure, acquiescence.”
Acquiescence.
Yes. I still live in the city where I was born, the home-studio where I grew up. It has never ceased to be a living and deeply loved refuge despite its degree of demand, despite the tears and losses it has accompanied. It is the prerequisite for my inner mobility — as well as my outer one — like an exoskeleton, and allows me to be able to embody this radiant freedom that is the main tone of my life.
My little Castine** fisherman house relieves me of the feeling of being attached to it.
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* Cézembre is a coastal island located in the bay of Saint-Malo.
** Castine: from Saint-Cast le Guildo, the village where my little fisherman's house is located.
CENTER
In my parents' house, just one number away from mine, there is a talisman-painting that acts as a unifying seal in the heart of the mansion. Of working-class descent, my family does not have a coat of arms, but there is this canvas, a large square. It represents a river, "The banks of the Epte" which reminds me of Heraclitus and Impermanence while radiating pure peace and joy.
This work reminds me too of what family spirit means, including my friends, my animals, my beloved departed ones, my future encounters... It is the symbol of a gentle anchoring that connects us, that instills itself in our cells and brings each of us back to the essential and simplicity.
The practice of Samu* is the most beautiful reminder of this: maintaining, cleaning, sweeping, gardening… working to preserve the elements of this tiny square of Breton land, slowing down too, honoring our guides, celebrating silence, meditating, inviting, helping…
With what I understand of “ L'enracinement ” by Simone Weil, “ Living-here ” is aligned. But “ Living here ” is above all “ Painting here ”: painting, creating, engaging in this wonderful studio that my father built for me just before he died.
"This space is special" : few enter it, all say so. The light shines differently, time stands still, a kind of grace lightens our hearts.
Blessed be the centrifugal force that irrepressibly draws me there, makes me feel happy, grateful and in my place.
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* Samu (作務) is a Japanese word meaning “work practice” or “mindful work.” It is a core practice of Zen Buddhism that emphasizes the importance of engaging in mindful work and service to others. Incorporating it into my daily life has been decisive.
ECO-DHARMA
Of course, I am concerned about my ecological footprint. I would love to fly back to Japan, Bhutan, NYC… but I was so lucky to stay there long enough to know how to go back by visualization.
The planet is burning, literally, and even someone blind to the environmental cause sees the colors of the flames through his closed eyelids, feels the torpor. Denying the disaster in progress is pure stupefaction or an attempt at manipulation.
Brittany, Switzerland, Scotland… within reach by train or car are so prodigious. I am keen to narrow the scope of my physical explorations to draw a map of inspiring lands and Nature.
Cycling to the Paramé* market on a sunny morning now gives me as much emotion as waking up at the foot of Fujiyama.
Mont Fleury, my real address — HanaYama 花山 in Japanese — is my little piece of Japan where I rediscover the taste of slowness and the perfume of lilac.
To practice Dharma Art today is definitely to include the concerns of the Ecosattva**.
Artists are now able to do many things online: make appointments with their sponsors and clients, offer virtual studio visits, exhibit, have meaningful personal discussions and offer follow-up on the progress of work, organize logistics, order art supplies, build community, etc.
Beyond limiting the damage caused to the planet, remaining still has the infinite virtue of training one's mind to try to act, interact, and create mindfully, in the most appropriate way and at the most appropriate time.
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* Paramé: district of Saint-Malo.
** EcoSattva: The term “EcoSattva” is a combination of “eco” or “ecology” with “Bodhisattva,” someone compassionately dedicated to relieving the suffering of the world. An EcoSattva is one who practices compassionate care of the Earth. See also the article: https://www.carolinemaby.art/en/post/ecosattva
From high school, I started traveling and covering many kilometers to go sailing with my Hobie Cat. Sometimes, I even crossed seas or oceans in order to crisscross foreign bodies of water and be the fastest there. This mobilized a spirit of anticipation, mental and physical strength. I believe that from there comes a taste for adventure and an ability to set up humanitarian projects. I learned to be comfortable with logistical and organizational questions: art therapy missions in remote countries finally replaced the championships in sometimes difficult sea. Elovution * is now my association which aspires to promote art and art therapy to children in difficulty.
Limiting myself to one long-haul flight per year should allow me to continue reaching these lands where art heal the hearts of traumatized children.
– “Why don’t you do this in France?” a friend recently asked me pertinently. I did it for a long time, in Children’s Homes in particular, and I suspended this line of action by professional choice: the interaction with the studio was noxious. I could develop this question elsewhere.
Let's keep the thread with Immobility, which itself underlies the subject of creativity.
If, through ecological awareness, I strive to evolve my life as a painter concentrically towards Hanayama, I aspire to leave open a window towards the Himalayan lands. Culture, symbolism, spirituality are familiar to me there and enhance what happens in the studio; my complementary experiences allow me to accompany the children of the Tibetan world through art with a Buddhist and ethical perspective.
I mentioned the virtuous interaction of these two commitments as painter and art therapist in the previous article: https://www.carolinemaby.art/en/post/elovution-source-d-inspiration
"The Center and the Departure": this article is fraught with a contradiction that I assume.
Isn't it always a question of nuances and adjustments? The essential thing seems to me to be the quality of the attention paid to it, with an authentic opened heart.
