I first heard of the Drawing Space
On a windy walk on the Malvern Hills.
We were watching - you and I –
As the paragliders shuffled to
A steep edge
Silently praying
For that implausible transformation
Of wing and lift.
“There’s no talking” my friend told me
As he squinted into the busy sky
“Just an invitation for artists to spend
An hour together, drawing in silence.
And somehow, on its own, this space
Allows the most potent intimacy to emerge.”
It was the ’somehow’ that got me
Science now tells us
That when we spend time in silent
Shared endeavour and generous intent
Our hearts slow down
And beat In rhythm, together.
And somehow in such collaboration
We give up our aloneness.
We breathe more deeply
And we trust the heart to
Connect us more completely
To each other’s vulnerability and grace.
Every week now I join
What I have learned is called
A congregation of artists.
Perhaps it is a conceit to think of it as worship
But our willingness to struggle
In the cradle of our creativity
Reminds me
That our most tender places
Are not ours to own at all.
And there is nothing to be afraid of.
Lovely Anthony