“Pursuit of the Sublime” | Anthony Satori
The pursuit of the sublime is far too easily derailed by accepting the belief that some heights are, by their very nature, unattainable. How much better to proceed as if all heights can be reached? What new and exceptional elevations of mind, body and spirit are simply waiting to be attained by those who have the courage to adopt a posture of optimism, vision and faith, and then to engage in the purposeful behavior that derives from these qualities?
“The Sphere of the Soul” | Anthony Satori
“The sphere of the soul remains faithful to its form… when it shines forth with a steady light by which it sees the truth of all things and the truth within itself.”
— Marcus Aurelius
“Abandoned Car” | Anthony Satori
“You’re going to pass something down no matter what you do, or if you do nothing. Even if you let yourself go fallow, the weeds will grow and the brambles. Something will grow.”
— John Steinbeck
Deliberately envision how you wish your world to look, and then take thoughtful, focused action toward that result. Choose to make the world a more beautiful place. Choose to make it a more peaceful, free and compassionate place. Be an active agent of light.
“Lighthouse” | Anthony Satori
“Life is holy, and every moment is precious.”
— Jack Kerouac
Let this thought be your guiding light.
“Gary Snyder, Zen Poet” | Santa Barbara, California, 2015 | Anthony Satori
“In the mountains, there you feel free.”
— T. S. Eliot
Campbell Hall, UCSB, California, November, 2015
It is an odd juxtaposition to watch a poet whose primary subject matter is nature, mountains and wilderness put on a tie, stand at a podium, and talk about his work in one of the least wilderness-like places conceivable: a university lecture hall. You get the feeling of a creature out if his element, a proverbial fish-out-of-water… handling the environment with admirable aplomb, yet periodically, and involuntarily, gasping for air.
The evening began strangely enough, with Snyder delivering a seemingly unprovoked 20-minute lecture on how we (the audience) were all inept at water conservation — although arguably from a place of authority, since he does live on a self-sustaining commune.
This was followed (thankfully) by some enjoyable, yet seemingly random, readings of poetry from some of his more obscure collections (oddly excluding both the entire “Beat Generation” era and his most recent book release).
The event then proceeded to attain new heights of awkwardness upon the introduction of an inexplicably antagonistic interviewer. To paraphrase a sample exchange: Interviewer: “One farmer said that he grew the best oranges by looking at everyone around him and doing exactly the opposite of what they did. Is this essentially what you are doing on the commune?” Snyder: “No. We’re not that dumb.” Ouch.
Almost regardless of venue, however, to hear a veritable institution of literature speak, read and discuss poetry and articulate his views on writing and life is a worthy experience. Up until now, Gary Snyder has inhabited the status of an almost quasi-fictional Beat Poet/Zen Madman character to me, someone who existed only on the pages of Jack Kerouac novels and in my imagination. Now, by virtue of this experience, his glowing apparition has been immortalized in my mind, and has, simultaneously, been made real.
“Legacy” | Anthony Satori
“Everyone must leave something in the room or left behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so that your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.”
— Ray Bradbury
“Infatuation” | Anthony Satori
“The first sip is joy and the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy.”
— Gary Snyder, describing to Jack Kerouac an ancient philosophy of drinking tea.
“Vibrant” | Anthony Satori
” ‘Just living is not enough,’ said the butterfly, ‘One must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.’ ”
— Hans Christian Anderson
While recently walking near water, I came upon a shiny, dark-leafed flower. The sunlight reflected off its surfaces beautifully, playing boldly with the reflectivity of its robust petals, softly enhancing the remarkable natural coloring of its bloom. The plant seemed to be almost consciously trying to show me that there was light emanating from deep within its heart. This was nature using color and texture to express a true inner vibrancy, presenting an expression of pure illumination before my very eyes. Moments later, the sun shifted. The colors became more subtle, more subdued. But not before I managed to immortalize the inner sparkle of this flower, in this moment, in all its wonder.
“Serenity” | Anthony Satori
“Words exist because of meaning. Once you’ve gotten the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find someone who has forgotten words? This is who I wish to speak with.” — Chuang Tzu
When someone tunes out the noise of the outer world, allows their thoughts to become still and calm, and immerses themselves in the experience of a work of art, they are speaking with someone who has “forgotten” words. This is because art exists in a mode that goes beyond mere language, reaching directly into the realm of pure meaning.
“Girl by a Fireside” | Anthony Satori
“Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH?”
— Jack Kerouac
Satori Circle | Art & Culture 