THE CIRCUITOUS PATH TO HUMAN CONNECTION by Kelly Coveny & Russ Schleipman & Milk*
THE CIRCUITOUS PATH TO HUMAN CONNECTION by Kelly Coveny & Russ Schleipman & Milk*
In art, negative space is the space around and between the subject of an image. In music, it is the time between notes. In dance, the void of movement. Negative space in our lives allows us to re-enter them with love. Naps rejuvenate. Quiet moments calm. Stale and static become fresh and vibrant. Mundane grows magic. Ordinary blossoms into extraordinary.
Negative space is the death of mindless distraction and reckless busy-ness: the birthplace of grace and gratitude.
Christian McEwen in her book “Slowing Down,” relayed that, “In the fall of 2006 the Campaign to Protect Rural England published a map explaining where to find tranquility. Among its defining categories was the ability to hear birdsong and to experience peace and quiet, to see natural landscape…and to be able to identify the stars at night. Tranquility belongs to a long list of shadowy essentials, to which our culture pays lip service, but to which we are mostly oblivious, among them rest, sleep, silence, stillness and solitude. What I am describing here is a certain vibrant emptiness.”

The Japanese have a word (ma 間) for this concept of vibrant emptiness which encompasses both absence and in-between. In Japan this spatial-temporal principle of ma underlies all traditional art forms. It is more than just a ‘way of seeing.’ It is a ‘way of life.’
Lao-tzu wrote in the Tao Te Ching:

We shape clay into a pot
But it is the emptiness inside
That holds whatever we want.
Even Hindu metaphysics refers to the power of the invisible energy fields around our body known as prana and kundalini or qi in Mandarin.
It is these invisible fields—our environment, our beliefs, our energy that creates our physical reality. It is in the negative space that our life finds its shape, its meaning.