The Temporary Nature of Things

Remember Phil Hansen's portrait in frozen wine, which melts slowly and inexorably, blurring and then erasing the outlines of a woman's face? (Look here:  http://philinthecircle.com/speaking.html ). Hansen spent time on temporary projects, art that either burned, melted, dissolved or rotted after he finished it. He says, "I spent a whole year making art and have nothing physical to show for it." How hard would it be to erase the product of your many hours of hard work? Granted, our gadget culture enables video and digital records of everything that was created, but the work itself? Our chance for fame and fortune? Gone.

Letting go is tough. We all want to leave claw marks on the scratching post of life. I don't understand why human beings are created with a drive to stamp their name, face, and genes on this world that's too overcrowded, too ancient, to care. Our lives don't even register against the geologic time scale. I'm reminded of this every time I open the refrigerator door, on which I have a sticky note quote from some self-help book saying "remember the temporary nature of things." This reassures me in times of crisis and scares the hell out of me the rest of the time.  

But I can see how Hansen freed his mind by letting go of the need to stamp his name and his art on the world. Releasing the need to make an impact, to score, to win frees my hands and my mind to focus on smaller things right in front of me, or blur in creative bliss. When I'm not afraid of impermanence, I can 'be in the flow' and trust my senses and mind to recall what's real and necessary. No need to throw it up on Facebook or Instagram or Twitter in a desperate attempt to make my mark or freeze a moment in time. The moments, messages, photos and tweets keep coming and the flood will eventually drown us out - not even to be found in a Google search - but if we can be free of the fear, who knows what we can create with the time we are given?