Soul Places

Befriending the Soul through Inquiry and Creativity

Tag: art

The Caste of Cast


Molten Iron
Copyright Kelly Ludeking 2000


This is a poem I wrote for my husband, Kelly Ludeking.  He is a sculptor who works with bronze, aluminum and iron to create cast artwork.  This weekend is the Ninth Annual Down on the Farm Iron Pour on the Ludeking family farm in NE Iowa so I wanted to honor his work by sharing the poem.  If you ever have an opportunity to attend an iron pour, GO!  Describing it does no justice.  It must be seen.  Occasionally, I participate in these events, wearing the dirty brown leathers or the newer safety gear “silver suit.”  Standing in a shower of molten iron every now and again, seems to balance my water sign.

The Caste of Cast

Cast ironmongers
dance about me
They are rabid for fire
to melt the metal
that makes manifest
their sickness
This curious group of people
with dirty brown leathers
heavy steel-toed boots
and graphite war-painted faces
travel far and wide
to spy the orange glow
of liquid iron
They wait for the call to iron
They recognize it as goose bumps
crawling over their skull
To deny the query
Is to forsake their true inheritance
Cast ironmongers
dance about me
Alone in their iron tribe
Together in their aloneness
The temple of their
creative soulness
– by Diane Ludeking

Pouring Iron
Copyright Kelly Ludeking


A Conduit for Creativity

"Lacey" by Kelly Ludeking

Creativity is not aberrant, not dramatic, not dangerous.  If anything, it is the pent-up energy of not using our creativity that feels that way.”  Julia Cameron, The Sound of Paper.

We all have a creative streak within us.  Whether you paint, knit, sculpt, train animals, teach, raise kids or look at life through the viewfinder of your camera, we all have something that presses us, keeps us awake at night or makes us edgy because we choose to ignore it.  Julia Cameron continues with her experience of creativity:

Composers more than writers tend to acknowledge that music comes to them from a higher source of inspiration, that they are the gateways and not the source.  The ego may rankle at first, but how much better to be the gateway for a large and mysterious something than the owner and guardian of a small and limited something, my “share” of creativity.  I like knowing that there is something larger than myself, larger than all of us, that moves into the world when we are accessible to it as a conduit.  I like knowing that my art is in a sense none of my business, not “my” art at all.

At first this statement appears to take the pressure of creativity off:  “It’s not really me anyhow.  When they want to use me, they will contact me.”  But this is not the case at all.  You must show up everyday at your creative threshold and cross it.  Sit at the blank canvas or page, stand before the clump of wax or clay, put your fingers to the ivory keys.  And begin.  This is when they show up.  You must be the available conduit for what wants to come through you.  Do you accept?

How are you available to creativity today?