The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Seven (31 page)

We’re always fascinated with something in the beginning, and we would like to cultivate that fascination and brew it and drink it until we get intoxicated. That is an obvious problem. In order for art to be certain and definite and workable, I would say that you definitely need sitting practice as basic pre–art training. It’s the only way to make sure that you don’t distort. Nowadays, students don’t have an apprentice-teacher relationship with a great master artist. You may study with somebody, take a course, but that person doesn’t live with you and work with you throughout your growth. Because of that lack, the only way to become an artist is to meditate a lot. Then you begin to develop a sense of continuity, a sense of dignity and mindfulness.

You could express that dignity and mindfulness in whatever you do, but in a work of art the whole thing is very condensed. For instance, flower arranging and making a brush stroke are unique and absolutely real. You could actually sum up the history of your life in one stroke—that’s possible. In your life in general, you never make such a comment as you make in one stroke of the brush, in one flower arrangement, or in one line of poetry. Those are actual statements. They are not very important on their own, but for what they represent. As such, they are very strong and powerful.

When we first perceive things, everything is uncertain. Because of that, we tend to refer back to subconscious preconceptions. That’s precisely what preconception is: before we perceive something, we already have some idea. So in viewing the world, we rely on preconceptions. That is also how we begin to create a picture. And once that happens, we begin to feel very confident: “Oh boy, now I have something to work on. Finally I am saved. Phew!” Usually people don’t like to show their initial blankness. Particularly people who are highly trained or have studied too much philosophy or have become too involved with the professional world would like to hide that blankness. But that blankness is the basic ground.

Genuine inspiration is not particularly dramatic. It’s very ordinary. It comes from settling down in your environment and accepting situations as natural. Out of that you begin to realize that you can dance with them. So inspiration comes from acceptance rather than from having a sudden flash of good gimmick coming up in your mind. Natural inspiration is simply having something somewhere that you can relate with, so it has a sense of stableness and solidity. Inspiration has two parts: openness and clear vision, or in Sanskrit,
shunyata
and
prajna
. Both are based on the notion of original mind, traditionally known as buddha mind, which is blank, nonterritorial, noncompetitive, and open.

The Activity of Nonaggression

Nonaggression is the key to life, and to perception altogether. It is how to perceive reality at its best.

N
ONAGGRESSION IS THE
key to life, and to perception altogether. It is how to perceive reality at its best. Out of that comes the notion of dignity. Dignity is somewhat more than elegance, which could be genteel in fashion. Dignity has a sense of authentic presence: it has authenticity; therefore it has presence. From that authentic presence, which comes out of nonaggression and gentleness, comes action. And from that, what is known as the four actions take place. According to the vajrayana tradition, these four basic actions are called the four karmas. They have to do with our experience of reality and our perception of art altogether—our perception of life, in this case.

The first action has a sense of pure perception without sharp edges. It is related with the color blue, and also related with the circle, as opposed to a square or other shape. The round shape of the circle represents gentleness and innate goodness, which is absent of neurosis. Blue is like a pure sky and represents space. Blue is also related with the air: cold, fresh air. Altogether, being without sharp edges has a sense of seeing the world at its best. This is the first karma, which is the principle of peace, or pacifying.

The second action has a sense of richness. It is usually depicted as a yellow square with sharp corners. The richness and yellowness are related with the earth. Since the earth is always creating boundaries for us, therefore it is depicted as a square. It also has lots of corners, or directions: namely east, south, west, and north. This action has a sense of being, harmony, a well-settled situation. It is the idea of dignity, or in Tibetan,
ziji
. The second karma, enriching, is the intrinsic energy of our state of mind.

The third manifestation of action is usually depicted as a red halfcircle. The redness represents the notion of having a connection with the emotions of that square earth. So the square earth is not all that square; it has its reference points. As to its being a half-circle, it is a half-circle because it is partly rounded and partly cut off from roundness. There is the fundamental notion of embracing each other: a man and woman embracing or holding hands. For instance, a kiss could be regarded as a half-circle concept—two half-circles meet and therefore make a kiss. It is the concept of passion, but it is not only connected with pure passion in itself; it is also connected with the idea of meeting the mind of another. It is also the idea of daring to let go. The idea is that once there is a sense of richness and of no poverty, we can let go, give away, be generous. This is the source of the third karma, the magnetizing principle.

The fourth action is depicted by a green triangle. It is connected with activity and with destruction. It is green and associated with the strength and power of the wind. Its basic, inherent nature is fearless. A sense of power exists, but the triangle also suggests a very sharp connection by creating three points. That is to say, the meeting of the positive and the negative, as well as the neutral, makes a threesome: therefore, it is a triangle. The notion of balance comes along with that, because if there is too little fearlessness, you might be a coward; and if there is too much fearlessness, everything is too intellectual; so we have a basic point of balance. The triangle is also regarded as representing liberation, or freedom. It is the gate of freedom as to how to perceive reality. So the fourth karma is a heavy one, destruction. It’s very simple and clean-cut, as if you were running into a Wilkinson’s sword blade. It cuts in all directions. Very simple.

The diagrams representing those four—the blue circle, the yellow square, the red half-circle, and the green triangle—are not regarded as magical or mystical. They are simply regarded as manifestations of how we relate with our lives. If we simplify the color perspective of the four karmas by combining the four colors—blue, yellow, red, and green—into two, the result is lemon yellow and purple. Those two colors were the imperial colors in the courts of China, Japan, Korea, and India, and in the empire of Ashoka as well. Lemon yellow is connected with strength and with the father, or king principle. Purple is considered to be the ultimate feminine, or queen principle. When the masculine principle and the feminine principle are joined together, you have the complete accomplishment of all four karmas—pacifying, enriching, magnetizing, and destroying. Everything is accomplished in that way.

When we begin to realize pacifying, enriching, magnetizing, and destroying as the natural expression of our desire to work with the whole universe, we are free from accepting too eagerly or rejecting too violently; we are free from push and pull. In Buddhism, that freedom is known as the mandala principle, in which everything is moderated by those four activities. In the mandala, east represents awake; south represents expansion; west represents passion or magnetizing; north represents action. That seems to be the basic mandala principle that has developed

The first karma, pacifying, is in the east and represents the cooling off of neurosis. We develop a sense of peace and coolness, which cools off the boredom and heat of neurosis. The manifestation of pacifying is gentleness and freedom from neurosis. The enriching principle, in the south, is basically the absence of arrogance and aggression. Arrogance is overcome—it is transparent. Magnetizing, in the west, is overcoming poverty. It is free from poverty. The fourth karma, destroying, is the destruction of laziness. It is in the north. The idea of the four karmas is not so much how we can handle ourselves, particularly, but it is how we can handle the whole world. We can actually operate from this basic mandala principle—in flower arranging, horseback riding, dishwashing, and all the rest.

State of Mind

Magic lies in the state of mind of the artist. This magic is wakeful magic. The artist’s mind is able to tune in to a certain balance or wakefulness—we could call it enlightenment, in fact.

I
N DISCUSSING THE
state of mind of the artist, we begin with attitude. Visual dharma, its application and fruition, is based on the practice of meditation and on Buddhist vision. That does not mean we exclude the visions and the perceptions developed throughout the centuries by artists without a Buddhist background. However, in visual dharma, training one’s mind seems to be the key issue. You might be musicians, painters, mathematicians, or photographers, but the principles of visual dharma still apply, to your work as well as to your lives.

Our attitude is the key to discovering the world. Obviously, we have a certain attitude toward ourselves, a certain attitude in relating to others, and a certain attitude in dealing with our world at large. If we haven’t developed the right kind of attitude, it is impossible to connect with the world properly. Art involves relating with oneself and one’s phenomenal world gracefully. In this case, the word
gracefully
has the sense of nonaggression, gentleness, and upliftedness; that is, a basic attitude of cheerfulness. It is important in becoming artists to make sure that we do not pollute this world; moreover, as artists we can actually beautify the world. Inspired in this way by our contact with dharma art, there is less room for neurosis. That is the actual project of dharma art, which is both necessary and important.

Where things often go wrong is that artists are very poor; and although they might have a lot of talent, intelligence, and vision, they have to struggle to make money. So day by day, hour by hour, their vision goes downhill. In order to make money, they have to relate with perverted, neurotic people who demand that they go along with their particular vision, if you can call it vision at all. So those who commission or underwrite the art and the artist drag each other downhill. It all ends up in a neurotic psychological gutter. In the process you might become a glorious and famous artist, but your work of art is permeated with neurosis and cosmic garbage. In turn, the artistic standard of living of the world begins to go downhill, and we find ourselves living in a very degraded world. Artistic taste does not have to descend to that level of doing clever things to con people and becoming a fundamental con artist.

Our attitude and integrity as artists are very important. We need to encourage and nourish the notion that we are not going to yield to the neurotic world. Inch by inch, step by step, our efforts should wake people up through the world of art rather than please everyone and go along with the current. It might be painful for your clients or your audience to take the splinter out of their system, so to speak. It probably will be quite painful for them to accommodate such pressure coming from the artist’s vision. However, that should be done, and it is necessary. Otherwise, the world will go downhill, and the artist will go downhill also.

The artist could take the attitude that to begin with, his or her artwork may not be a money-making venture or popular. But gradually, as you work with your client, your friends, and your audience, they discover that you are a good person. They see that you are genuine, interesting, with a sense of dedication and bravery—and even some arrogance, in the positive sense. Then your world might actually change. The audience and clients may begin to appreciate the way you put yourself into your work, appreciate that your attitude is right. You have actually given birth to an attitude of gentleness and goodness because of your dedication and trueness, so your work rises to a different dimension. At that point, the artist has tremendous power to change the world. The concepts of the world could be changed entirely—visually, audially, and psychologically—by the power of visual dharma.

The second topic is the magic of the artist. In this case, magic doesn’t mean that you perform abracadabra in front of your audience or that you suddenly make a million dollars on one painting. Magic lies in the state of mind of the artist. This magic is wakeful magic. The artist’s mind is able to tune in to a certain balance or wakefulness—we could call it enlightenment, in fact. At that point, an artist is able to execute masterpieces. There have been examples of that in the past—by artists who were not necessarily Buddhists.

Great paintings have been made, great music composed, and all sorts of arts such as interior decoration and architectural designs executed by people who might not have been great students, technically speaking. So becoming a technocrat is not the way to train to become an artist. First there has to be a sense of vision taking place in one’s state of mind. Such vision comes from a state of mind that has no beginning and no end. It is very present, on the spot. We could call that vision “first thought best thought.” When that happens, there is no struggle. Anybody could become a genius from that point of view. Everybody has that essence and that possibility. That sense of genius and magic is always applicable.

First thought does not come from subconscious gossip, it comes from before you think anything. In other words, there’s always the possibility of freshness. Your mind is not contaminated by neuroses all the time, so there are always possibilities that your whole existence could be good—which it is in any case. Goodness is always there—just catch it on the spot. By cutting through subconscious gossip, you take an attitude of delight in yourself that you are actually doing that. You have a sense of self-existing dignity. Therefore you don’t feel so bad. You don’t feel loaded with the stuff of your neurosis. So there is a sense of overcoming heaviness and depression. Then you begin to see first thought, which is best thought.