The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Seven by Chögyam Trungpa

description of the group energy involved in working with him is reminiscent of other times described by his students in this introduction: Ludwik Turzanski talking about the Explorers of the Phenomenal World creating dharma art installations with him, Lee Worley and Jean-Claude van Itallie describing the theater conference, and Johanna Demetrakas and Baird Bryant speaking about the Milarepa Film Project. Rinpoche was often unwilling to describe himself or focus the attention on himself as “the artist.” This was not because he lacked confidence in his abilities but because he regarded the identification of oneself in that way as limiting and somewhat ego-enhancing. In relationship to these group undertakings, he also hesitated to emphasize his role as the artist. In discussing the dharma art installation at the LAICA Gallery, Rinpoche commented, “I don’t consider myself as an artist, per se, at all. I don’t regard myself as the author of this exhibition, obviously, but I feel very good about it, nonetheless. I am more proud of and pleased with the people around me, who have created the environment, than I am with myself.” Clearly, this ability to delight in including others in the artistic enterprise was part of this man’s genius. When one reads the memoirs of the students who worked closely with him, one gets the impression that he created huge artistic “happenings” for people—events where people’s perceptions and frameworks were immeasurably enlarged.
    As we conclude Volume Seven, dealing with art and artistic process, and move to Volume Eight, which presents Chögyam Trungpa’s teachings on the Shambhala path of warriorship, we will also see a progression in Rinpoche’s life and thought, as he became more and more interested in linking art with culture and society. One can easily see this in the movement from creating individual works of art, such as calligraphies and flower arrangements, to the interest in creating larger environmental installations. Beyond that, however, Rinpoche was interested in a much bigger project: he was interested in dharma art as a force in the creation of culture and society—and not just any society but an enlightened society. In a sense, he was taking the Japanese idea of do, or art as a way, beyond even its understanding in Japanese culture. He was essentially saying that art can create a world.
    I asked one of the main designers who worked with Chögyam Trungpa over many years, Gina Etra Stick, quoted already above, to write about their design work together, to give some flavor of the broader implications and the scope of his design work. 63 Gina’s remarks help to tie together the various elements in Volume Seven and point us to the journey that lies beyond, in the Shambhala teachings:
     
. . . the Vidyadhara [Chögyam Trungpa] set about designing a world. In my opinion, this activity of design was not just limited to art in the conventional sense. This activity was absolutely pervasive: there was nothing outside of this umbrella. Like the peeling of an onion to reveal essence, the intrinsic goodness within every situation can be revealed, and everything is included in sacredness. Like a thangka, there is no shadow for dirty laundry: everything is illuminated. So, in other words, any and every embodiment of the sacred is dharma art: dharma art is the language of sacredness.
The Vidyadhara designed anything and everything, according to the structure and boundaries of sacred world, embodying what I think of as patterns of enlightenment, patterns of awake, patterns liberating the power inherent in conventional life. We designed heraldry, flags, banners, and brocade. We designed environments: shrines, buildings, gardens, parties. We designed ourselves from the inside (meditation) and out: uniforms, pins, precious jewelry, and clothing. The Vidyadhara devised events and rituals to bring mindfulness-awareness practice, or meditation in action, to how we move, walk, talk,