Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Land - A Creative Path


If you had told me, just two years ago, that I would be making part of my living creating scale model miniatures. . . I would have laughed and shooed you away. . . but inside, I would have been wishing it could somehow, possibly,  be true.

I have been making art for 30 years. . . but the twists and turns of time, circumstance and fate that led me back to this childhood love are too many to mention. And I do not want to bore you with them all as it is.

What I do want to say is this:

We spend our lives so immersed in our own world, in our own situations, that we rarely get the chance to glimpse a life outside of our own. The world becomes more frantic, moving to an ever-quickening pace all the time. We are swept up in the currents of our own days, of our own battle for survival and, as if often the case in the deep waters of life, we lose sight of land.

Our childhoods are filled with these "other" worlds. Sci fi, monsters, dolls,  model railroads, imaginary places and creations fill our days. As i grow older I am more convinced every day that there is a reason for that which is supposed to serve us well as adults too. That is VITAL to our survival and our future happiness.  And that is all too often left behind in the rush to "grow up." Those early experiences and imagining. . . that is our landscape.  That is the ground under our feet throughout our lives.

When I first began making these HO scale buildings. . . just under two years ago. . . it was as if I had my first true glimpse, and feel, of that land in years.

They were a familiar sight as they appeared before me.
That childhood love and fascination with model railroads.
With small, imagined worlds.
With other places.
It brought back something I hardly had taken the time to realize was missing.

I cannot tell you what it is, only that it is pure and a part of the thread I never can let go of again.

There are many who also share this love of "other worlds"

We are drawn to them because they offer us those glimpses. Peeks into a place and time outside of our own. One of our own creation and choosing when, sometimes, we lose sight of that possibility in our own. They are unspoiled and clean. Simple and remarkable at the same time. 

For me, as the maker of them, they are something of a pole star. They are a magnetic draw towards the life I wish to lead every day. One of creation that opens doors for others. Brings a sense of joy and calm. Offering these glimpses into other worlds. A little hint of the magic that can be. . .

And maybe, just maybe, a reminder to not allow life to become so big.
So overwhelming.
So torrid a current

I invite you to find these places in YOU
Whatever they look like or how they manifest
They are like the distant shore in deep water
They are familiar
They are the constant
They are

nicolas hall

Monday, April 2, 2012

Who's There? - Poem

The doorbell rings by itself again as it has done dozens of times since we moved in
We've taken to going down, opening the door, and welcoming our ghostly visitors in

I return just in time to look out the window and see the old man
Almost every morning at this time
He is walking slowly down the sidewalk
With his old dog
Their gaits, quite similar
Belying the time each of them has spent on this Earth

I notice him, as I do so many things here
Because there is so little else to distract me
Here, I seem to slow down
I actually breathe
And I feel I can see

I try to recall, in the cities, if I ever really "saw" people.
People in that environment are always on the way somewhere.
They are hard to see and we are too busy hustling ourselves to be able to see
Everyone seems to be moving a step ahead or, as is more often the case,
Falling a step behind

It seems many people in a small town such as this have arrived
They've caught up with themselves
They have nowhere to go
Their steps are measured
They aren't chasing anything
And I wonder
If the phantom who keeps ringing the doorbell
Is just me catching up
With me

nicolas hall - 2012