It struck me that the meditative search for a sculptural form is like breathing life into a thought. I counted each breath. It became like a mantra - to keep attention away from other thoughts, and to keep me awake. It did not take long before I began to worry about the publication. "What is the real value of some personal reflections?" I reminded myself to concentrate.
- Count the whole way. I am waiting for a thought that feels right. It must insist.
I concentrated again on only counting the breath. I tried to quiet the mind so I could “see” a form.
- It is as if I am trying to experience inspiration raw. I will not let in any thoughts about how the form conceivably can look like.
No-thoughts-three-four-and so on in a timeless period. Until there is an unknown experience, or perhaps an experience beyond my memories and thoughts, that shows itself in the plaster lump.
I pulled myself out of the meditation, back to my own thoughts, while trying to keep the memory of the shape without mixing in my views. It will take at least a few hours to cut out the form so I really got time to think over every incision. I made sketches during the forming process and tried out the cuts on the exterior of the lump.