So many artists consider themselves to be shaman without walking through fire. Their aim is to please their superiors, the critics... the lastest trend. If it's smearing shit on a wall and calling it art, that is where they go.
Hell is not for tourists. Art isn't for sissies. Life is Art, but until I walked through fire, I didn't know what that meant.
I wander on the Via De La Rosa, and when I wonder, I wander. There is a craft to wandering into wonder, dear faux-shaman. You can't hire an Uber to get there. You can't submit to or go along with a guru either.
Go naked in the woods.
Lesson one: The Critic - there are two kinds of critics. One is to enhance the ego of the critic tearing down others to assert authority... establish superiority.
Lesson two - The teacher is an angel weilding a sword of mercy and mercy can be as devastating as the first sort
Criticism is to be helful in improving the craft. I am my most merciful critic and true mercy isn't always kind. It requires that I set aside ego to be able to see that critcism devastates and destroys. A critic that has walked through the fire and forged to the other side, is qualified to be a mentor.
This reminds me of the story of the Shami achieving enlightenment and gleefully presented himself before the Shaman because he had finally "Got It!" after years of meditation practice.
The Shaman says, "Where is your sandals?"
And in that instant, the Shami became enlightened.
All that the inner critic asks is, where is my sandal?
