A dinner party at my house last night sparked the discussion about whether writing or art needs to communicate something clearly to an audience in order to be deemed 'a success' or whether the mere act of attempting communication and self expression through the medium of words, imagery and object is enough for it to be considered a worthy contribution...in either the artist's or the critics mind.
Can we talk about the way we feel without being accused of a self centred approach? Is what we have to say about our own experiences relevant to a wider audience?
In my view, the beauty of the dialogue between the work and the audience is enough, regardless of whether these two points ever meet. What is this obsession with being understood? I think it is an illusion to believe you can effectively describe your internal landscape and intricate thought processes to another... afterall, there are some many stages in the process of an idea from concept to realisation to reception...
The inspiration has to first filter through the artist's mind, originating in some way from external stimuli, then the artist has to feed these thoughts through the process of creation into a physical form. At this point, when the complex thought processes, having been spun into something visual and palpable, the work lays wait, at the total mercy of the eye of the beholder... what mood are they in today? What experiences affect their reading of the work? What new filters must this work now pass through?
In my belief, the dialogue, instead, should be seen as a meeting place between one mind and another. How much do we relate to eachother? Do we understand another's perspective? What can we learn from this exchange?
I will agree that a certain amount of self awareness in the voice of the work is necessary for the messages being conveyed to hold credibility, but the rating of success should be in the authenticy of this voice, and not in it's eloquent story telling capabilities...
One must remember, art exists in time, so there is infinite possibilty for an individual to be touched by it's sentiment on one day, and dismissive of its presence on another... just as one glorifies and dismisses their own thought processes on a day to day basis.
Lets not be too precious about art, lets clear our throats and see what comes out...
Keep in mind that before one can be considered a genius, they must be considered a human... and this delicate state of being is an art form in itself. If an 'artist' is telling you something about their world, and attempting an honesty in their expression, they are doing an infinitely good service to all listeners, encouraging interaction, sharing, and an open minded approach... and who are we to disregard what it is that they have to say? Who knows, if we try, we might learn from this process...
In this way, as we live, we can all choose to turn our experiences into an expression which we can invite others to share in, and we can call be considered artists of our time.
Afterall, lets not be pretentious about the job of an artist, when we are all living...
I am diarising my everyday life into palpable bite-size narratives. It helps me to understand sometimes.. but is it a page of my diary from August 2009, or has it become a story...
Going somwhere? But where? You are already everywhere... And then you're here, but you feel as thought you are heading someplace else.. but you are already there, and you always will be,
no matter how far you go, or how little. Here, there (t)here;
(being everywhere at once).
Unlike the other images and photographs on this blog which i create myself, i found these 3 photos in a flea market in Berlin. They seemed to be speaking to me, reminding me that i too am on a journey, but of course we all are, all the time. On particular occassions one may feel more aware of this journey, more aware of the circuitry behind certain decisions, actions and behaviours... The paths i choose to take on my journey seem somehow to relate to these circuits in my mind... almost as if, as i visualise, i bring to life my dreams, fears and imaginings...
Nowa Huta create the feeling of a far away land right inside my musing mind...
I am transported to an otherworldly, post apocolyptic, energetic futurescape, at times spacious and calm, at others times hectic. This secretive east london duo, new for 2010, so succinctly describe the light-dark feelings of progression through a moment of sheer awareness that i so often enjoy.
I am here, i am everywhere, Nowa Huta are lighting up the universal night sky...
At the moment i am in the process of creating spontaneous drawings which i do not plan out before putting pen or ink to paper. Whenever I get the urge to express myself in a fluid, painterly fashion, i just pick up a brush and let the sensations within flow out into the visual world. I feel as though i have set up a direct link between my hand movements and my psyche, and this 'process of art' acts as a kind of 'spiritual bluetooth' between the inside and the outside of my mind, as Patrick Hussey, my cohort at Run-Riot, so aptly put it.
I am no longer dreaming dreams of you. ‘You’ are no longer a person but a concept, a representation of pain. ‘You’ exist in nightmares only, ‘you’ at a distance, fizzling and fading, burning sticks in no mans land, burning away, smoke fills the air, smoke rises as I turn away. ‘You’ – nothing but a pile of ashes in a deserted street. I will not walk that way anymore.
And now me; I am fizzling, not fading, fighting and fearing. I am full of life, full of myself, full of anxiousness. I remain, after you facilitated my discovery. I sway, oscillate, and now I am in recovery. Positioning carefully, full of ware, pinching tears together, holding them in.
Most of all I want to be safe.
From ‘you’ since you insist on haunting me.
And now again, I assert my new found calmness.
I am calm.
A face says a thousand words, if you choose to listen...
...its expression a master of disguise you might think, but some things simply can't be concealed. Keep looking, what do their faces say? Listen up! You might make some valued judgements. A smile can give a lot away...
Faces appearing, expressions capturing passing thoughts, features revealing emotions that words alone can't describe. Here are some of my current sketches, a montage of eyes, noses and lips, skin creases, beards and fringes which gesture out from my mind. I did not draw these 'people', they drew themselves. I know they say something about the expressions i've known and the people who've worn them. Each set of gazing eyes seems to be communicating, even thinking and feeling. I like these 'people', they are my friends, they feel close.
A slightly sickening rendition of those niave children's drawings we all laboured over as kids, but isn't it more ironic then nostalgic? A wholesome recollection you'd love to believe in, but for all those other uncomfortable memories disturbing the calm waters of your mind...
Do you wake up dreaming of a home you can't quite remember existing? Hold me, baby, let's surrender the past... squeeze me tightly, don't let me go, daddy....oh daddy...oh... um... no thanks. I'll get on just fine myself, better off without your limiting gaze...
Gesture toward peace in future spaces. Reduced expectations salve the child within. Hold it in ( ). Let it out ( ). Breath...
The mind is such a soft, vulnerable place. Despite having no tangible location, at times one can feel it's physical form accutely. Porous, sometimes spongey and very susceptible, a lair beyond the visible world, and yet endlessly affected by external landscapes.
As a woman i can't help but draw a comparison between the mind and my sexual organs; a cocoon like destination with a hidden entry point and a recess beyond anyone's viewing pleasure. One doesn't reveal to many intrepid explorers, wearing an outer covering to protect what's within. Once inside, the soft sides are sensitive and require careful handling, and sometimes, the trust placed in others turns out to be undeserved.
Beautiful, beyond adornment, naturally affected by life. Don't hate your mind, care for and caress it, and every now and then, open it up to new ideas...
Greedy for the visual world, busy looking, feeling and responding, busy making sense out of the surrounding madness.
Words, images and objects interplay to describe a process of living.
Memories provide the filter through which the world is seen.
I contribute to www.run-riot.com - find my blog posts here too.
Visualising internal landscapes. Externalising the mind. Collecting evidence. Living art. Fantasizing reality. Glorifying moments. Researching the past. Life facilitating the self.
