Chapter 22: Don’t Be Worried - The Worst Will Also Happen
Since you first spoke about subjective and objective art, the artist and the mystic, a deep reflection has been triggered in me. I’m confused concerning meditation and doing. I have always felt my art to be my meditation, but is it still not a doing? I notice the difference when sitting in Vipassana. Must art and sculpture even, fade away into non-doing? Can creativity on the material plane be truly meditative? Will my art remain solely subjective until the ego agrees to commit suicide?
The distinction between the subjective and the objective art is basically based on meditation. Anything that comes out of the mind will remain subjective art, and anything that comes out of no-mind, out of silence, out of meditation, will be objective art.
This definition is simple and will destroy your confusion. Whether you are creating something - you may be a sculptor, you may be a carpenter, you may be a painter, a poet, a singer, a musician - all that has to be remembered is that it is coming out of a silence within you, that it has a spontaneity. It is not prearranged, preprogrammed, pre-thought. As you are creating something you go on being surprised yourself - you have left yourself in the hands of existence.
Now your hands are not your own hands. They are simply following what the existence longs for. You are not to interfere, you have just to be a watcher - a watcher of your own creative activity. From the doer you have to shift to being just a watcher.
The ancient Upanishads are one of the best expressions of objective art - tremendously meaningful statements, immensely beautiful poetry, yet we don’t know the name of the poet, the name of the mystic. They have not mentioned their names for the simple reason that they are not the doers; they are just instrumental in the hands of existence.
Mind is a doer, so when you are doing something according to your mind, it will be subjective art - subjective in the sense that you are pouring your own thoughts onto the canvas in colors, singing your own thoughts on the flute, but it cannot be sacred. Your mind is so full of trivia, your mind is concerned with absolutely nonessential things. It is a mess.
Just sit silently in a corner one day. Close the door - lock it so that you can be confident that nobody is going to see what you are doing - and then go on writing whatsoever arises in your mind. Don’t edit it; don’t try to make it better. Don’t even complete the sentences - if they remain incomplete and another sentence intrudes, leave it as it is. It has to be photographic. Just a small ten minute exercise - and then read what you have written. And you will be surprised: are these your words? Is this your mind? This seems to be the mind of a madman!
But twenty-four hours, day in and day out, those thoughts go on rushing in your mind. When anything is created out of this madness which you call mind, it is going to reflect it. That’s why even a great painter, a genius like Picasso, has never attained to what I am calling objective art. All his paintings are subjective.