Ever Daydream Out Windows? Keep it Up.
by Thea Fiore-Bloom, PhD
What’s the purpose of an artist or writer’s home?
French philosopher Gaston Bachelard (1884-1962) said:
“The house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.”
Bachelard chose to honor, not belittle, daydreaming.
The Mark of Infinity
He knew daydreaming had a profound and important job to do for an artist,
writer or thinker:
“Daydream transports the dreamer outside the immediate world to a world that bears the mark of infinity.”
— Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space .
Isn’t it miraculous when we tap into the infinite world as opposed to the immediate world when we create sometimes?
Those fleeting moments when our focus is on the vertical plane (the infinite) as opposed to the horizontal plane (the immediate), make being an artist or writer a nourishing and occasionally ecstatic experience.
Bachelard might say, our home, be it camper van or castle, supports a long-term relationship with verticality.
Tip 1 For Creatives: Honor Daydreaming
What would happen if we classified domestic daydreaming as an act vital to our creative process?
Artists need daydream.
We need daydream like Pandas need bamboo, or stock brokers need their smart phone on vacation.
Have you noticed quality daydreaming often involves a good window?
Artists Need Windows To Work
A journalist once asked Edward Hopper’s wife, the artist Josephine Nivison Hopper: “What is the most difficult aspect of being married to a great artist?”
Hopper’s wife responded: “It took me a long time to realize that when he is looking out the window, he is working.”
So are you.
Matisse’s Love Affair With Windows
Henri Matisse (1869-1954), one of the most inspired painters of the 20th century, was mad for a good window.
When asked why open windows were so often a part of his paintings, Matisse poetically explained that the magic of a window is— it’s not a wall. Walls kindly protect us from the elements but:
“The wall around the window does not create two worlds,”
— Henri Matisse.
I think Matisse also loved windows because they allowed him to experience the beauty of places like his beloved Nice on the Riviera, from a safe distance.
Unlike his impressionist colleagues (obsessed with painting outdoors) Fauve phenom Henri Matisse preferred to spend most of his time in the confines of a cozy apartment.
The master of color was said to be happiest when tucked safe inside his self-designed magical interiors, providing they had good windows.
And an odalisque or two.
(For a two-minute video exploration from MOMA on “Blue Window,”one of scores of window-themed works by Matisse, go here.)
When you think about it, windows allow us to live in two worlds at once.
“And What is More Generous Than a Window”?
I only remember to appreciate a good window when it rains. I love rain and it’s scarce where I live.
So I listen to fake rain when I’m desperate. (High quality, adjustable, online “rain generators” are great for writing. Here is my current fave.)
A good window affords us the luxury of being in a driving rain without getting wet.
We see it impregnating the beach sand, or smile when we hear it plink-plunk on top of a neighbor’s steel trashcan lid; all while being safe inside with our fluffy bunny slippers, a big mug of hot jasmine tea and a new tin of watercolors.
Heaven, courtesy of a window.
When I was reading about Matisse’s love of windows the other day it reminded me of poet Pat Schneider’s homage to the window and other silent things that companion and wait for us, inside our homes.
In the following poem Schneider ingeniously reminds us of the value of common objects we take for granted.
THE PATIENCE OF ORDINARY THINGS
It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?
~ Pat Schneider
Another River: New and Selected Poems
Tip 2 For Creatives: Take In the Generosity of Ordinary Things