August Sanders‘ farmer got us thinking about just how much our creative process is about sewing seeds. Then we stumbled on this hunk of wisdom by Brian Eno:
My kind of composing is more like the work of a gardener. The gardener takes his seeds and scatters them, knowing what he is planting but not quite what will grow where and when – and he won’t necessarily be able to reproduce it again afterwards either.
Yes! NOT quite KNOWING what will grow where and when…
Sometimes, too, we are planting seeds and don’t even know it; we only realize it after they’ve grown into something. Being in the dark, with no answers, is the difficult part for sure. When we’re feeling that, we draw strength from May Sarton:
Without darkness,
nothing comes to birth.
As without light,
nothing flowers.
…We’re reminded of photographer Fern Berman‘s photograph of a worn, heavily graffitied wall. If you look closely, you can see young tendrils that have emerged…
(While we were writing this, we were listening to 70’s experimental/meditative music from Eno’s and his colleague’s that were recorded on Eno’s Obscure records, streamable for free here. FUEL.)
Tendrils of the New Small by photographer Fern Berman whom we featured here.
Humbly submitting small correction from “with” to “without” light ( in May Sarton’s quote…)
Without darkness,
nothing comes to birth.
As with (out) light,
nothing flowers.
-May Sarton
Many thanks for your beautiful work.
Thank you so much for gentle correction. I can be so blind sometimes!