Death Of The Painting

When was the last time you truly experienced joy?

When I was asked this question by my professor, I immediately thought of my family and friends, and beautiful memories I shared with them. But when I truly asked myself this question, “when did I experience true joy”, I found it difficult to feel the emotion of joy within the context of experiences with my family and friends.

Painting. The experience of painting was what I started thinking of, and it was this thought that never seemed to leave my head. The last time I painted a painting, I was so involved that I experienced ‘flow’. What does flow mean? I lost track of time (I was painting for over 8 hours straight with no break), I was 100% present in the moment and completely committed to the process. And for me, this is what flow is. When I reach a state where I’m completely unaffected by anything happening around me and I am able to bring my awareness to my attention, this is me experiencing flow. My energy is centred. This energy is an inward energy from my core that instills a sense of inner peace, and it is this peace that drives me through time (tranquility would be a deeper manifestation of this inner peace). This is not to say that the process of painting is extremely easy, but to emphasis on how effortless the entire process becomes, despite how challenging of a painting I choose to paint. I think of painting a difficult stroke in my head, and I’m able to easily manifest it on the canvas.

As a child who used to paint, I have always been attached to my work. If I painted a beautiful painting, I expected people like my friends and family to tell me how beautiful the painting was and what they liked about it. However, over the years, I have grown as an artist and have come to understand the concept of “death of the painting”.

When I paint something, I perceive this painting to be something of relevance or importance to me. This relevance matters to me, because it is personal. But once I’m done with this painting, it is no longer mine, as it is no longer about my perception.

How someone else perceives the painting, is based on their perception, and this is essentially shaped by their worldview. I cannot ask them to see the painting the way I see it. Even if I do, they will not be able to see it exactly the way I want them to see it. Moreover, I cannot judge the way they see the painting as their perception is subjective. So what do I do?

I learn to accept. Accept the truth that once I’m done with the paining, it is no longer mine to call. It belongs to someone else.

As an artist, I have learned to attach myself to the process and not the product. As Deepak Chopra beautifully put it, “detached attachment”. When you attach yourself to the product, there is the need to defend your perception over the perception of others (as I painted it, my perception is superior). However, I learnt to embrace the idea of being defenceless and just listen to what someone else has to say about the painting. The painting of a child might induce happiness for one while sorrow for the other. In learning to truly embrace these perceptions, I have come to understand the idea that duality coexists. The same phenomenon can be seen differently by different people.

The idea of perception was something I never truly understood earlier. When we speak of it in regards to a painting it is easier to explain, but when we talk of it on a higher level, say in terms of universal truths, understanding the what perception means becomes fundamental.

For example, one of the universal truths I never believed in earlier was , “We are incapable of judging good and bad.”.

When I was in Ashoka doing the Young India Fellowship, I got into a heated discussion with my friend Shivangi about this. We discussed the act of murder. I, at the time, used the words judgement and perception interchangeably. I see someone killing. I know it is wrong. Hence, my perception that murder is bad.

However, there is a difference between the 2 words (perception and judgement) that Shivangi tried to explain to me, that I was not willing to take it into account (just because of my ego).

“We see murder. But we do not just see the murder, it is the act of murder that we judge.” We are judging the consequence of an action, and not truly seeing the act for what it is.

For me, murder was just murder. But for Shivangi, murder was not just an act, but a result of something. It was the product. She asked me to look beyond the product, and asked me to understand the ‘process’ of what lead to that murder.

When we truly see something for what it is, it includes understanding the context of an action. I as an individual am always concerned about the consequence of the action. I drink green tea because I want to be healthy. Healthy is the outcome of drinking green tea. I work because I get paid. Money is the outcome of working. I then started to see a pattern of how I was truly attached to the ‘consequence/outcome’ of an action.

Have I ever truly done something just because I wanted to do it? When I asked myself this question, I was faced with a lot of other uncomfortable questions. When I say I want to uplift communities, do I truly want to do it, or am I attached to the ‘selfish satisfaction’ I gain from having helped someone?

The spiritual laws of Deepak Chopra talks about several things. The core ideas being pure potentiality, detachment, and dharma. For me to truly create impact, I need to look beyond myself and what I gain from doing something. For this, I as an individual need to practice ‘detached attachment’, and learn to see that I am everywhere. I am not me, but I am simply a physical manifestation of everything around me. Once I learn to see this, my idea of growth and potentiality completely change, as it is not about me anymore, but the idea that I coexist with everything around me. If I as an entity need to grow, I need everything around me to grow as well.

References:

The Seven Laws of Spiritual Success by Deepak Chopra