An Artist’s Vision is Like a Child’s
October 23, 2008
Post by Marilyn Bigney
BY NOW, I’M USED TO WAKING UP when Alex has one of those nights. I can usually tell. After all, I married an artist! So, it was nothing that unusual for me when he woke up one morning and asked me if I knew who Nikolai Tesla was. (I had already guessed that something had been happening that night.) “Well,” I replied, “if he’s anybody, he’ll be on the internet!” (Which is obviously something we laugh at now.)
Strangely, the dreams continued. He’d recount the previous night’s experience to me and we’d both wonder what it meant. Soon, I was encouraging him to write it all down. It’s so easy to forget—even important things.
His scribbled notes on little scraps of paper began to pile up, littering the floor on his side of the bed (along with his typical stack of art related books and gardening and cooking magazines). Then the scraps of paper turned into sentences, paragraphs, and chapters typed into a growing document. I got used to Alex’s requests that I listen to a newest journal entry, and as I listened I learned—I learned that writing a book is not easy; I learned that I have experiences and creativity too, covered up and conveniently put aside as I was busy being grown-up; I learned to participate in my children’s and grandchildren’s curiosity, and re-found my own delight in discovering the world; learning that I’m not too old to learn new things myself, things that might have seemed beyond what I thought I could learn.
And finally, I have realized that being an artist is a complete way of viewing the world and oneself. Do I laugh often enough? Do I feel the seasons changing? Do I see all the shades of a sunset? Do I let my foot tap when I hear a good tune? (I already knew that I allow Italian chocolate to overcome my mouth and then my whole self.)
Again recently, someone attending one of Alex’s readings of Talking to Tesla asked, “Is this real? Did this really happen?”—which always puzzles me. I have known Alex for many years. He’s an artist. He dreams like he paints. I think he’s always been like that. So, it didn’t surprise me all that much when he awoke that morning to tell me he had met someone named Nikola Tesla in a dream.
An artist’s vision is like a child’s—big, accepting and wide open. In Talking to Tesla, Alex shares all of that with each reader, who, in turn, has the chance to re-find his or her own childlike point of view.
I know that I’m re-finding mine.
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Congratulations! I have been expecting this for some time and can’t wait to buy the FIRST copy!