113/115 SPIRITUAL CONSCIOUSNESS By FRANK H. SPRAGUE
Thus we see that Nature and Art constitute one world. They blend so imperceptibly that, in many cases, the line of demarcation between superhuman and distinctively human expressions is obliterated. Their mode of revelation is the same, and their forms are of the same description. Both are perceptible through the same outward medium sight. They are partial expressions that a deeper consciousness enables us to recognize as the work of one Creator.
Genius is spiritual insight. It penetrates the outer envelopes of life and makes it possible for one to assume a central view-point from which all things appear in their true relations. Every man has the power to lay down at will his personal consciousness, to exchange the finite standpoint for the infinite, to merge his separate existence in the Universal,
and to allow his thought to become poised at the center of Being. In that state he shares the creative spirit, and is inspired with a deep longing to manifest the ideal world. The finite man creates nothing; he simply serves as an instrument of the Infinite a medium through which the universal Life finds expression; just as the wire in an incandescent lamp is a means of radiating light when the current is passed through it.
Material forms are symbolical. They suggest spiritual ideas. Ideas are projected into external form by the intervention of thought mental images susceptible of unlimited modification. These images remain latent in the mind until the search-light of consciousness illumines and reproduces them in memory.
On attempting to formulate his ideal visions, the creative artist appropriates the mental images most accessible and best suited for embodiment, and weaves them into original designs models of outward representation. He may not be able consciously to trace the process by which this result is achieved. The finite consciousness must be passive in order that the Infinite may fully possess Its instrument.
For this reason the standpoint from which the artist creates and that from which he contemplates his work, are sometimes widely separated. He may even fail to recognize his own productions when he approaches them in the capacity of the critical observer, instead of that of the creative instrument.
The deeper Self often accomplishes results that fairly bewilder the finite agent through whom they are achieved. It always builds better than the finite man conceives. One need not be consciously aware, as he writes, paints, or composes, of the deeper meaning of his work.