What is Yoga? | Your Instructors | Note from Robin | Featured Articles | Archived Notes

The 'I' That Sees . . . December 2006

This fall I made a commitment to pursue my passion for art and signed myself up for two very intensive figure drawing classes at the Gage Academy, in Seattle. One of these classes is a fundamentals course, emphasizing proportion, perspective, a left-brain kind of exactness that makes my head hurt. The other is a course on Gesture; pure intuitive right-brained immediacy, capturing the energy of the moment, the movement as it happens, how the form exists in space.

Although, I registered for courses to develop the art of drawing, soon into my ten-week stint, I realized that I was actually immersed in a process of developing the art of seeing. My two instructors have vastly different approaches to the subject, yet both of them call upon us to continuously release our pre-conceived ideas of how we think things are, and see with clear vision. Never in my life have I had such an instantaneous reflection of how distorted my perception truly is.

My fundamental’s teacher rarely finds my rendering of the model credible, and with good reason. As I draw the pelvis, the shoulder girdle, the tilt of the head, it looks and feels so right. Yet, my measuring stick continues to chastise me, as nine times out of ten the accuracy of my angles is off. In the Gesture class we’re encouraged to use many non-linear techniques to draw as if we’re discovering the form rather than replicating it; to capture how it is, rather than what it is. The combination of these methods of translating visual experience onto the page has acted as an ego-demolition squad, an in-my-face reminder to let go of my particular viewpoint and look again. I’m beginning to realize how rare it is to see with a purity that is empty of the self.

I’ve come to think of my drawing lessons as an extension of my yoga practice. The same core teaching resounds through both: We’re unable to see things as they are, because we’re viewing the world through the lens of our own experience – and that’s an inherently flawed lens. It’s not that our way of seeing is bad or wrong, but in the words of one of my art teachers, it’s just a little ‘wobbly’. This image captures the idea that there’s an inherent instability in our interpretation. Problems arise when we forget that as we look out at the world, or inward at ourselves, we’re standing on an innately ‘wobbly’ precipice.

Like yoga, all the great spiritual teachings call upon us to loosen our grip and open up to the uncertainty of each moment as it unfolds. Art in all of its many forms has been hailed as a spiritual practice. I’ve come to feel the truth of this in these past few months. Moving out of the comfortable role of teacher, and entering Gage as an introductory student, has forced me to face the insecure and wobbly places in me that want to grasp for solid ground. Unloading my drawing pad and pencils, I feel in myself the same trepidation I read in the faces of students new to yoga as they roll out their yoga mats. I’ve been humbly reminded of that place of vulnerability, when everything seems unknowable. It’s made me appreciate how much courage it takes to move towards any discipline that asks us to free ourselves of familiar constructs.

This experience is re-shaping the canvas of my mind, teaching me the importance of observing without assumption, of maintaining a fresh and open gaze. And when I’m able to look and really see - whether I’m studying how the model moves on the stand, or how the branches of a tree wave in the wind, or how a group of yoga students extends their arms skyward as they breathe in, the web of connectivity shimmers before my eyes, beautiful and true.

May the New Year bring you Beauty, Light, and ample opportunities to look again…

Blessings,

The Yoga Barn, Inc.
Robin Rothenberg, Certified Yoga Instructor
660 NW Gilman Blvd., Suite C6, Issaquah, WA  98027
Studios located in both Issaquah and Fall City
Phone: 425.427.0038  -  Fax: 425.427.0613
E-mail: info@yogabarn.com  -  Web: www.yogabarn.com

Copyright © 1997 - 2007, The Yoga Barn, Inc. All rights reserved.