Today was another study session on AMOK--knifefighting and stick fighting techniques as taught by Prof. Tom Sotis. You can see his website here:
http://www.knifefighting.com/ or read his wikipedia entry here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Sotis And you may remember an earlier blog entry entitled AMOK I wrote here:
http://jonudell.net/radio-luann/2005/02/06.html#a98
We worked a little harder today. Usually we work in a fairly controlled manner, practicing technique, resulting in a lot of bruises but no sweat.
Today there was sweat. We worked hard, to the point where technique, for a change, was second to intent.
Tom said something during class that sat hard with me. "When you are threatened, if you strike, you must strike as if your life depended on it--because it does."
"When you have achieved complete dominion over your attacker, THEN you can choose to show mercy. But not until the fight is OVER, and you are no longer in danger."
"Until then, you must strike with all the force you can muster with every cell of your body. Every single living unit in you is alive--eight billion cells, eight billion tiny soldiers, under your command. And you must command them to your utmost."
Powerful words. We fought harder. And then, he urged us to yell.
"You yell to exhale, and make room in your body for THIS move, and THIS move," he said, moving to show us. "You yell with your whole spirit, to propel you into the attack."
We yelled. And fought even harder.
Oh, there was a smacking and a thwacking on the bags such has never been heard in the dojo before. And we all growled and yelled with each strike.
It was powerful. The entire room was energized and focused.
I returned home to the safety and comfort of my home, my family, and settled back down to work.
It should have felt anticlimatic. A complete change of pace. Quiet creativity vs. raging destruction.
But it didn't. Oddly, I didn't feel far removed from the excitement and movement back at the dojo.
I realized that when I am working at my fullest on my artwork, I feel something similar.
...not EXACTLY the same way, of course. I'm not thwacking and yelling, and I rarely break into a sweat. It's not the physical force of striking and parrying, dodging and backhanding.
But when I am fully focused on bringing something wonderful into the world, there is that same sense of urgency. Of power. Of every cell in my being caught up in the process.
Because when I am on fire with my work, I feel that my life DOES depend on it. That if I don't get it right, if I don't get it out into the world, something in me will not survive.
I think of a workshop I attended years ago, with Deborah Kruger that was so life-changing... http://www.deborahkruger.com/ And the young woman in our group who, afire with Deborah's words of affirmation, exclaimed, "We are warriors for our art!"
It feels right. It feels powerful. It feels....
like living to the fullest. With all my intent.
Sometimes, there are times of rest or retreat, as Julia Cameron described in THE ARTIST'S WAY...when she said you will rest, but as on a boat in a river. YOU may be resting, but your art, and your momentum are still carrying you along. That's where I was the last year or so.
I think of that beautiful line from Amy Tan's THE JOY LUCK CLUB, The woman saving the swan feather, laden with meaning, for her daughter year later: "...it comes from afar and carries with it all my good intentions.”
I cannot control the outcome or influence of my art. I can only fight for it with all my power. I can only bring it into the world, with all my heart, with all my focus, and with all my good intentions.
All eight billion little cells of me.
