The First Experiment

June 14th, a culmination of a fast-paced, serendipitous set of circumstances.

In May, LaKesha and I met Manny at a market in Lake Worth. Manny impressed me as a talented artist, and I knew immediately that I wanted to work with him. I reached out to him soon after to set a meeting. He was very open to discussing Zoya and the vision for integrative arts education. He told me his fascinating story, the many years of Zen Buddhism that shape his creative practice, and his place in the world as an artist and a Zen monk. Manny also brings a wealth of experience and knowledge in the field of sumi ink painting. Not just the technique, but also the philosophy and metaphysics of the practice. Our first conversation impacted me greatly. There was an instant understanding and recognition of each other’s motivations and ideas.

LaKesha, a partner in Zoya’s work with me, is a longtime practitioner of sound healing with singing bowls. Also in May, Thelma sent a proposal for a sound healing practice with singing bowls to take place in the gallery. I have known her primarily as an artist, and did not realize that she also facilitated somatic and meditative practices.

The idea for Sumi Ink Painting to Singing Bowls was one of the first workshops that emerged in my imagination for Zoya’s future. It doesn’t seem coincidental that they also emerged as the first facilitators of a Zoya workshop.

We gathered at Ida Lake Park in Delray Beach. I structured the agenda loosely, opening with a grounding practice, tea-drinking ceremony, moving into demonstration and exploration of materials and techniques of sumi ink painting. Once everyone had a chance to settle in with their brushes, ink, and paper, we proceeded to paint to the sound of singing bowls. Thelma and LaKesha took turns playing the bowls. We closed with a discussion of the experience and a fruit salad.

The experience felt fluid, entrancing, and connective. Each step of the process played an important role in triggering a holistic state of being. Taste and sound unlocked our embodied presence; the guided meditation and breath work activated our contemplative and mindful centers, and the time spent painting made time disappear in a wash of creative flow.

I have not ink-painted in many years, and yet I dropped into the practice effortlessly, without judgement of myself, and painted with a looseness and inner intention like never before. The singing bowls pulled me inward, made the sound of the rest of the world retreat, and their resonance aligned with the movement of my brush. Of course, this practice is ancient, and of course it was going to work, but it, for us, felt like a discovery.

P.S.

A wood stork came to visit us during the session. He seemed very curious about what we were all doing out there by the lake, and we think he was also attracted by the sounds of the singing bowls. He walked directly towards us until we pulled out our cameras and paid way too much attention to him. Then he slowly walked off into the brush. Seeing this bird has often been associated with new beginnings, prosperity, and the arrival of blessings or new life.