The question came up.

Am a writer who paints or a painter who writes?

So, as not to box myself into labels and corners, I said: “I’m a creator who writes and paints. Remember, an artist, a creator, has no medium.

If the metaphysical shoe fits, wear it.

We’ve all been there. If only we could go back in time and right a wrong—one of our own doing.

To feel regret without an act of contrition that addresses remorse in some meaningful way is disingenuous and a victim’s game.

While the soul is perfection, we are not—which is a debated topic. As an artist, my dharma is to reflect truth; I leave perfection to consciousness, which does not require our help.

So, when the next opportunity to right that wrong reveals itself, grab the brass ring and burn away the karma that has been dragging you down. 

Years ago in a cafe near the beach in Santa Monica, California, the Zen master asked me: “Why do you want to be artist?”

As I’ve said before, this is the question. Have you answered this core question to your own satisfaction?

If not, you might as well be a doctor, carpenter, or a plumber—professions that society values.

I did answer the master and without hesitation. What would your answer have been?

More than fifty years ago, pioneer researcher Abraham Maslow recognized the importance of ‘studying’ the healthy people, those who were self realized.

Are you fascinated with mental pathology, serial killers, gossip, roadside accidents—name your grisly scene? It’s clear that most in our culture are swept away to support such aspects of social behavior.

If you want to excel above the mundane, to evolve beyond social conditioning, choose your model carefully and with restraint.

Here’s another favorite Zen tale that you will find in my book, An Artist Empowered.

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

To welcome his guest and set the stage, Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring. The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. “It is overfull. No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, “you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

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