Crossing the Threshold Between Inner and Outer Worlds

All photos for this blog were taken by Anna. Siena Cathedral, Tuscany, Italy.

This is the first in a three-part series exploring the meeting place between art and contemplative practice.

My aim is to explore how certain forms of art and design can deepen our attention, expand perception and bring us into a more intimate relationship with the world around us.

For many years I taught meditation in formal settings, yet over time I discovered something unexpected: the same states of presence and spaciousness that arise in meditation can emerge naturally through encounters with art, architecture, symbol and place.

Contemplative art offers us new ways of seeing – as well as new ways of being seen.

This series explores how and why.

Detail of Santa Maria Novella, Florence. 

Why Art? Why Now?

There is a long lineage of using artworks (from illuminated manuscripts to frescoes, icons, altarpieces and architectural motifs) as tools for reflection, learning and transformation. Symbolic forms, colour palettes and layered imagery have carried cultural memory for centuries.

Today, this lineage feels increasingly relevant. We are living through a time marked by environmental uncertainty, social fragmentation and a growing sense of disconnection from the natural world. Contemplative encounters provide us with an an antidote: they are an opportunity to (re)engage and create meaning in our lives through simple creative practices.

What interests me is how contemplative art shifts consciousness.

If the “why” speaks to the moment we are living through, the “how” lies in the particular qualities of form, rhythm and attention that art awakens.

Certain visual forms invite stillness.

Certain patterns expand the field of awareness.

Certain spatial experiences – light, geometry, proportion – can alter how we inhabit ourselves and, in turn, how we meet the world around us.

A visit to Toulouse, France. 

Two Strands of Contemplative Art

To start our journey, it is helpful to distinguish between two related but different strands of contemplative art:

1. Contemplative art practices:

intentional methods of looking, deep listening, or attending that cultivate presence and deeper perception. My Emily Mason meditation, for example, uses colour, abstraction and slow attention to gently shift internal states and open new ways of sensing.

2. Contemplative works of art:

artworks where subject matter, form, rhythm or atmosphere naturally evoke spaciousness, stillness or reflection. Certain paintings, architectural spaces or photographs invite contemplation simply through what they embody and how they are made.

Inner and Outer Worlds in Contemplative Perception: Palazzo Pubblico, Siena, Tuscany

These two strands often overlap:

A contemplative practice can transform how we encounter an artwork; and a contemplative artwork can, in turn, draw us into an inner state of attention without any deliberate technique.

A simple example is the way many people respond to the paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe. Her magnified flowers, long horizons and elemental forms slow the viewer’s gaze, stretch perception and elicit a sense of calm. No instructions are required; the artwork itself becomes an invitation into another way of seeing and being. This is contemplation arising from form.

Inner and Outer Worlds in Contemplative Perception

One of the most important aspects of contemplative art is recognising that our internal world – our emotional life, memory, imagination and sensory awareness – is never separate from the external world.

Architecture shapes our interior states.

Light influences mood.

Colour modulates attention.

This mutuality is at the heart of a contemplative art practice.

Spiral-shaped lamp in Montpellier, illustrating symbolic geometry and contemplative design.

A simple example is the breath.

It is a continuous cycle without a fixed beginning or end; a movement that belongs simultaneously to the self and to the surrounding world. One breath contains both interiority and environment.

Likewise, art and design move between the internal and external in ways we rarely notice.

A line, a curve, a piece of stonework, or the way light falls through a window can influence emotion before thought even appears.

These are perceptual experiences that reveal how deeply interconnected we already are.

However, most of us move through life with the subtle sense that “self” is here and “world” is out there; as if our inner life and our outer circumstances are divided.

Contemplative art (and practice) invites us to gently examine this assumption.

When we pay close attention to an artwork, a building or a landscape, something curious happens: the ‘boundary’ between self and world dissolves. This is an opportunity to experience life as an interwoven field of relationships, rather than a series of isolated events.

This is what I sometimes call passing through the veil of separation – an experiential shift that arises naturally through presence, attention and sensory engagement.

View of Siena, Tuscany. Reflecting on interconnectedness and contemplative ways of seeing place.

A few last words about Moments of Stillness and Recognition

A vital aspect of contemplative art engagement is offering ourselves moments of pause through embodied presence. When we slow down, even briefly, something in us reorganises. Space opens. Meaning reveals itself. We notice what is truly present.

It is often in these small, unguarded moments that something profound stirs:

a shift in perspective,

a softening of an old pattern,

a glimpse of the world as connected, alive and luminous.

An Invitation

This three-part series is an invitation into a slower way of seeing and being.

Join me on a journey through contemplative art that may help you deepen your creativity, expand your perception and cultivate a more intimate relationship with the world around you.

Our Next Essay: Discover the forms, spirals, branching patterns, rhythms and cycles that reveal the deep structures of connection that underlie all living systems.

Thank you for reading.

I would love to hear your reflections, and if you feel inspired, you can follow along on Instagram where I share images, field notes and contemplative observations that extend the themes touched on here.

Contemplating Emily Mason

Lignite, 1968, Oil on canvas, 50 x 41 in., photo by Dan Bradica, New York, NY, courtesy of Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY © 2024 Emily Mason | Alice Trumbull Mason Foundation/ARS.  Thank you for giving me permission to feature Emily’s work.

Welcome! Contemplating Emily Mason

I invite you to participate in a brief contemplative art experience. Please take a moment to find a comfortable seat, and click on the audio below to explore the essence of "Lignite, 1968" (see above), by Emily Mason, followed by my own experience of her painting at the bottom of this page.

Emily Mason

Emily Mason, born in New York (1932-2019), is associated with the American abstract expressionist movement. My initial fascination with Mason's work stemmed from encountering the exhibition "The Thunder Hurried Slow" at the Miles McEnery Gallery in New York (December 14th to January 3rd, 2024). The title of the exhibition intrigued me, as I have a deep appreciation for Emily Dickinson's poetry.

"Pleasure Garden," 1970, oil on canvas, 52 x 44. Photo by Dan Bradica, New York, NY, courtesy of Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY © 2024 Emily Mason | Alice Trumbull Mason Foundation/ARS. 

Many of us feel unsettled in the presence of uncertainty. Abstract art, unless explained, can sometimes leave viewers feeling uneasy, leading to avoidance. While Mason’s vibrant colours, cadence, and sense of harmony are an invitation that draws the viewer into her world, at times, her work also instills uncertainty, due to its lack of definition or explanation.

The unknown can stir a visceral response that pulls us to turn away. Instead of resisting these sensations, contemplative practices encourage us to meet these emotions, but without judgement or attachment, just awareness.

When we draw upon contemplative practices, such as softening our gaze, slowing the breath, and letting go of expectation, difficult emotions begin to move and flow through us. Gradually, a sense of space emerges, which can evoke a new perspective, or a series of unique artful experiences.

In my view, Emily Mason uses colour and composition to invite us to contemplate the liminal space between what is known, and what is continually unfolding in the realm of infinite possibility.

Her compositions evoke a sense of depth and stillness, grounding us in the present moment. Simultaneously, the vibrant interplay of colour with shape in ‘Pleasure Garden’ suggests movement and fluidity, inviting us to transition into a state of flow.

Rather than prompting a retreat from experience, Mason’s work invites us to move closer, to lean into the mystery behind each layered colour, tone and line. The interplay of light and dark shades provides bridges that allow us to traverse safely between different spaces; they offer moments for rest and contemplation.

I am equally drawn toward another work, one whose energy carries a different kind of intensity:

The Thunder Hurried Slow

The Thunder Hurried Slow, 1978, Oil on canvas, 54 x 54 inches., photo by Dan Bradica, New York, NY, courtesy of Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY © 2024 Emily Mason | Alice Trumbull Mason Foundation/ARS. 

Mason’s vibrant bursts of red in ‘The Thunder Hurried Slow’ act as anchor points; moments of respite amidst the thunder’s impending chaos. It is as if Emily Mason has crafted an experience, rather than an object, as she invites us to hover between reaction and immersion.

Mason’s work possesses an energy that compels repeated investigation!

Certain works of art can be transformative, reaching deep into our psyche and altering who we are. Sometimes, we cannot articulate what has changed, but nevertheless we know that we have been moved to feel something profound.

This is how I feel when I engage with Emily Mason’s work.

Contemplating Lignite: My personal experience

“As Emily's ‘Lignite’ slowly seeps into my consciousness, it gently stirs a full-bodied reaction that engages multiple senses. The symbolism of coal, so beautifully captured through rich tones and earthy colours, evoke a sense of deep-time.

I am taken through shifting layers of emotion, opening into expansive, textured inner landscapes.

As I rest for a while within Emily’s painting, the earth’s rock formations evoke a distant memory of forgotten places. I reflect upon a feeling of enduring loss, as I consider the transient nature of belonging.

I am drawn to contemplate my own relationship with time, and I feel the impermanent, fleeting nature of the delicate present moment.

As I continue to gaze upon "Lignite," a sense of spaciousness begins to unfold; a feeling of being (re)connected to something unexplainable flows through my body, and sensations of elusive light guide my attention even deeper into the painting.

As I become immersed in ‘Lignite’, time and space seems to fade; replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace –emanating from within.” Anna

My next blog considers why nature is a key theme in contemplative art. You can keep an eye on my instagram feed for updates.

You may also like my contemplative essay on the photography of Chaosheng Zhang, which explores light, atmosphere and the unfolding presence of place.

Thank you to Miles McEnery Gallery, New York, NY and Emily Mason | Alice Trumbull Mason Foundation/ARS for agreeing to let me feature Emily’s work - it has been an absolute honour!

Meditation Music Credit: Adrift, by Christopher Lloyd Clarke. Licensed by Enlightened Audio