Ruth Phillips has a lovely rumination today about art, true beauty, and “the zone”.
In my past as a young ‘modern’ cellist, my gestures were stillborn for fear of them being imperfect. Since, by their very human nature, they were bound to be nothing but, I was frozen; cramped within the tiny world of trying to make something beautiful and perfect from control rather than flow. In the baroque and classical movement over the last twenty years and in my own personal movement towards it, gesture, controlled abandon (since we must have some control in the ‘gobetis’; some discipline in the organic mix) and intention have become the priority as opposed to control alone. Thus any beauty (and there is so much) that appears as a result comes from grace.
I am enjoying Ruth’s writing quite a bit; it’s a window into the life of an artist and her artist husband and their adventures and soul-searching in Provence. It’s not a life even remotely similar to mine, but we are connected through writing and through the thoughtful analysis of life. I’m glad to be able to read her.