Awakening journey

[vaneramos]

The past several days my mind has experienced a state of rapid expansion outward, absorbing more new information than has usually been possible.

Carbon and other pollutants are emitted into the air in such massive quantities that large areas of forest landscapes are dying from the effects of acid rain. Recognizing this crisis, as an artist I can no longer consider making art that is void of moral consciousness, art that carries no responsibility, art without spiritual content, art that places form above content, or art that denies the state of the very world in which it exists.

That statement by Chicago artist Othello Anderson appears in an article by writer and artist Suzi Gablik: The nature of beauty in contemporary art. She goes on to add:

As many artists shift their work arena from the studio to the more public contexts of political, social, and environmental life, we are all being called, in our understanding of what art is, to move beyond the mode of disinterested contemplation to something that is more participatory and engaged.

Further, she records part of an interview with Thomas Moore. I have only read part of his book The Re-enchantment of Everyday Life. That was several years ago, but it influenced the beginning of the sense of spirituality I have now: one which is not shaped by established religions or social norms, but by a personal experience of my community and environment. My mental health seems to have interfered with me absorbing and processing new ideas lately, but when I read this article it felt like a reawakening.

It turned up during my internet search about an artist clarkelane mentioned in a comment, Dominique Mazeaud. The past few days I have been reading about her, Allan Goldsworthy and another one who art_thirst named, Richard Long.

All these artists and writers relate in one way or another to the sacredness of nature, not necessarily in its mere existence, but in our human relationship to it. The writer who first inspired me to explore this was Elizabeth Murray, in Cultivating Sacred Space: Gardening for the Soul.

In hindsight I can understand why I have neglected these ideas. Reading these things I encounter echoes of the supernatural, a concept discordant with my own emerging beliefs, which were rougher and more confused only three years ago. Even the word 'sacred' itself holds associations with religious ideas I, as an atheist, didn't know how to embrace.

But today I recognized how my intentional record of the Eramosa River over the past year has expressed my sense of sacredness about a place that comforts, teaches and inspires me. Richard Long's sculptures reminded me of the footpaths I follow several days a week. Dominique Mazeaud wrote a journal of her relationship with the Rio Grande, just as I have been doing with my stream. These ideas do more than resonate in my head—they resound.

I can only begin to describe the journey my thoughts have taken today. This afternoon I headed to the park intent on exploring the river and surroundings with new eyes. I took many photos of paths and secluded spaces, not for their photographic qualities, but as a personal account. I have in mind setting up galleries for these. I also wish to establish a space which has some kind of special purpose to me. I can relate to the importance of ritual and symbolism.

Ironically, with my eyes tuned to the ground, to more intimates scales within the outdoors, I observed more than I usually do: a robin pausing on a park bench, a different elongated species of tadpole that looks almost like a minnow, a huge bracket fungus right beside the path where I have walked at least six times since the beginning of the month,




Leopard frog, Rana pipiens


My mind is rustling with ideas. I hardly have time to grasp them before new ones come bursting in. And like Lyra in The Golden Compass (a novel by Philip Pullman, which I finished this week), I'm afraid to shatter some of them by looking too closely. Even describing the experience this much feels dangerous, teetering on the boundary between art and a violation of something intensely personal.

This arises from the anxiety that something so important might seem ridiculous to others. Inevitably it will be so. All our creations run that risk.

Several years ago I realized that writing and art (and communicating with them) hit closest to the core of who I am. So I just keep going.

Comments

[art-thirst.livejournal.com]

Van, that is awesome. So much of my unspoken concerns in art are voiced here. Photography and writing is how I have been thinking for a good while, mostly because of the course I taught this last semester.

Did you notice the difference in approach between Long and Goldworthy? Goldsworthy's work has humor, while Long's doesn't, in a general way. I think Long's work is more personal and introspective as well. Mostly, I find it has less manipulation and some of Goldsworthy's work seems too manipulated and outside of the kind of personal/sacred space Long works in. And, the latter is the kind of space where I want to work. Actually, I have been since declaring so formally in Dec., 1999 when I visiting Myakka River State Park near Sarasota, FL., when I happened upon a colony of turkey and black vultures.

By the way, that bottom picture almost looks like a painting. The lights and darks are really graphic.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I see the difference, but I still like them both for what they are.

I appreciate the humour. In Rumi's poetry I find a quality of playfulness which I aspire to in my own writing. Sometimes, as in the poem I posted yesterday, it comes out as irreverance. I'm wary of any spirituality that takes itself too seriously. However in some of Goldsworthy's work I see a keen sense of beauty and reverance for nature—free of supernatural trappings—which I can relate to. It is not as esoteric as Long's work.

Goldsworthy's art seems more self-conscious than Long's. It draws attention to itself rather than expressing something about the landscape.

Have you written about your experience in Myakka River State Park?

Thank you for your words about the photograph. I didn't expect it to receive much attention. Complex textures are beautiful in nature, but rarely translate well in photography, which tends to see beauty in what's simple. I have tried to photograph complexity lately, with limited success. Ironically, when I took this photo, I was merely recording trails. In looking for something else, I managed to photograph what I had previously been seeking but failed to see.

[art-thirst.livejournal.com]

No, I have not written much here about Myakka River Park. Part of the reason for that is that I wrote a major paper in grad school and got most of it out of my system in the sense of its personal origins. The vultures are considered sacred birds in a few cultures and it is for me on a personal level. They have something to give me and when I saw them in huge numbers I knew immedately that I needed to change what I was doing in my art right at that moment. I have received something from the vultures but, there is something else they are to give me. I can't say what it is but, it's like a personal talisman. It's been many yrs. but eventually I'll get it.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Curious. I have the same kind of relationship with cedar waxwings. Lately I've heard them frequently, so I haven't been paying attention, but whenever I go a few months and then hear or see one, I feel I should stop myself to find out what the message is.

[dakoopst.livejournal.com]

The place where the mind teeters between absolute serenity and absolute motion? Yeah, I understand that place...it's where I feel most alive.

'Tis a beautiful thing, life, which can offer up, in experiences which repeat and retrace, an overwhelming sense of difference, of shades of meaning, of new within the old.

Ah, I blather. But even in that, there's much to be said.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

But how beautifully you blather. :-)

Yes, teetering. Sometimes I feel my mind pulling so hard I'm afraid to follow, wondering where it will take me. One of the challenges for me has always been keeping the balance between that positive creative energy and the discipline to look after my physical and other needs so I don't burn myself out. But I think I have a better awareness of those needs than I used to. I'm hoping to find my way on a journey that has always gotten lost in the wilderness before.

[quirkstreet.livejournal.com]

This awakening you're going through is just fantastic. I hear echoes of so many things we spoke of when I visited, and having seen some of the places and things that inspire you, the resonances are really touching.

And that final photograph really is amazing. The simplicity/complexity issue we were talking about gets resolved in a really powerful way. The individual grasses are a riot, but the light and shadows create startlingly simple contrasts.

Wow.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I wish I could have shown you more, although it's amazing how much I experienced yesterday just within a hundreds metres/yards of riverbank that is most familiar to me!

After the concert this afternoon I head to Toronto. Part of me just wants to stay put and immerse myself in new perceptions of these familiar surroundings. But life calls me elsewhere. It's going to be a challenge for me to stay focused and disciplined through these next few incredibly busy weeks. I'm working on how to share some of these experiences with my kids.

[poetbear.livejournal.com]

the grasses make a superior photograph,
but i have to go with the frog, which i
consider my personal totem. ~paul

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I'm pleased that I posted it, then. We only have a few leopard frogs along the Eramosa River, but at least five different species around the cottage. Hopefully I'll have a chance to photograph some of them this summer.

[poetbear.livejournal.com]

ribbit!~paul