The Root of the Issue

In every forest, on every farm, in every orchard on earth, it's what's under the ground that creates what's above the ground. That's why placing your attention on the fruits that you have already grown is futile. You cannot change the fruits that are already hanging on the tree. You can, however, change tomorrow's fruits. But to do so, you will have to dig below the ground and strengthen the roots.

T. Harv Eker

Mr. Eker is not a farmer, not a history prof or even a philosopher...he is a financial wealth motivational speaker.  I probably don't embrace his agenda for fattening my bank account but I do think he has a point here about roots.  I'll explain.

Lately I've been obsessed with "roots."  In every aspect of the word, in every application of the nuance, the symbolism and the literalness...in short, the word just keeps percolating in my tired little brain over and over again.  I must have hundreds of photos of roots.  Everything I have read, fiction and non, over the past year somehow circles back to a theme involving roots.

What does this mean? I'm not sure.  But the obsession has, of course, crept into my painting and I've decided to ride it as far as it takes me.  Does anyone really want a painting of roots in their living room? I don't know and for the moment I can't care...I need to paint these fascinating twists and turns and see where they take me.  It could be a private project or a fabulous show...no idea.  

These magnificent formations all become anthropomorphic as I paint them.  They are also an excellent exercise in transforming a 2D surface into a 3D visual, it takes a certain skill to make those limbs come out at the viewer or dive back into the ground.

Even my sketches relate to the idea that roots have something to tell us...uptight, snarled root balls don't survive, meandering, exploring ones that graft onto others thrive. hmmm.

In the midst of hardened places you often find hope, there is a lone fern (to be) nestled amongst these (work in progress) roots.  And, and....

And who knows where this will lead or if next week it all comes to a screaching halt.  So bear with me as I dig beneath the surface and see what needs attention.  Or share with me and perhaps I'll discover just why this is grabbing me so.  As always,

CURIOUS,

Cindy p.s. all of the above illustrations are still on the easel, works-in-progress!

But Is It ART?

Yikes. I am closing in on the deadline for a solo show which opens on August 6.  When I selected the theme of "Seeking Sanctuary: places & spaces that renew the soul" I was full of imaginative possibilities and creative thinking.  I was brave and determined to be bold in my interpretation of the theme.  The delightful gallery manager gave her blessing and said "Go for it, go all over the map, have fun."

And now...I am experiencing cold feet, self-doubts and a profound lack of that bold bravado I spouted just months ago.
The little devil of fear keeps hinting that perhaps I have ventured too far off the map, too far out in left field.  He states that folks will show up, smile and then turn and whisper "but is THAT art?!"

"...even I could do that...."

Is it ART? oh my, who knows?  If scholars far wiser than I can't define what is and is not art, how can I?  And you can talk about 'art for arts sake' or 'art that is metaphoric' or even 'art that provokes.'  (Just don't say out loud that dread phrase: "My grandchild could do THAT.")

So I write to request that when looking at art, (any art, not just mine) to ask yourself what the artist might have been thinking.  Was there something he wanted to say or something he wanted you to ponder?  I will kiss your feet and hands if you bring that attitude along when you view pieces of mine that are a little bit odd or different.

Just how odd does it get?  Can you imagine someone finding 'sanctuary' in the peace and quiet of a hotel room?  I can.  And how would you present that short of painting a hotel?  Hmmm, is there a way to suggest  the portal to a hotel room?  Not sure, but I tried.

No, this is not the final piece, just parts of it.  And to be honest my number one supporter looked at the piece and announced "I don't get it; I don't believe you need a key to a sanctuary."  And that is OK, a legitimate response because he gave it some thought ... thank you very much.

And how could I express my belief that most of us so often hold our sanctuary in our own hand and don't even realize it?  I had to make a hand....I had to have something symbolic in it,...maybe a variety of things the viewer could try out.  And perhaps they still won't understand that a feather represents the sanctuary of an empty nest or that a seed reminds me of all the sanctuaries we have 'planted.'  Maybe they won't like it at all but maybe....someone will.  And then it will be fun to know that an off base idea of mine touched a chord in someone else.  But I will never know that unless I try.

I will be sharing more about the gallery and show dates in another blog soon...I hope if you are in western North Carolina you can come.  And yes, there will be plenty of lovely pieces representing the gorgeous sanctuaries that man and nature have provided us, so please come and enjoy those.  But I ask you to give an equal chance to the pieces you may not "get",  Who knows?  Something may click!  But at least you will have given the artist an opportunity to share a thought with you... that is, if you can break the code.

Mysteriously yours,
Cindy

Authenticity

AUTHENTICITY

We expect poets and songwriters to draw upon their life experiences as they shape their craft.  A song about heartbreak is impossible to write convincingly if one's heart has never broken.  A poem about pain just doesn't ring true if the poet has never felt it.  I remember an interview where Adele was asked if she had any good material left in her now that she was in love and expecting a child.  She replied that she certainly hoped so, that it would be a shame to think she had nothing left to say just because she was happy.

As appreciators it is easy to decide whether written materials strike a magic chord of authenticity  and "ring true to life."  The audience (the consumer or customer) seems to know when the writing artist "gets it." And I think we get a gut feeling as to whether a singer is coming from that place of "been there" as well.  But I rarely hear an audience of decorative arts discussing or even looking for that same degree of authenticity in paintings, pottery, glass or sculpture.   

Perhaps it is because we are not trained to look for it?  Or maybe we are rarely familiar enough with an artist's work to notice when it takes on a new flavor due to a life experience?  I'm not sure of the answer but I have been thinking about it a lot lately.

My friend Patti of Linville River Pottery began a dreamscapes series last summer; an experimental way of crafting her clay with images in them done upside down (or backside front) in bowl shapes.  Comforting scenes of trees and mountains and paths and little cottages came forth and I fell in love with them.

Here's a few, unglazed as yet:

I could picture myself in that little cottage, protected by the tree, surrounded by the calm side of nature; my soul rested in these pieces.  But Patti's soul was in them first, it was her dream, her life that inspired the pieces that emerged. (And, for the record, she does live in a little cottage happily surrounded by trees and mountains).  These expressions are Patti, they are authentic and the observer, even without thinking specifically about it, subconsciously believes the feelings evoked.

But life intervened.  Patti's husband was in a life-threatening motorcycle accident on a lonely highway out west many airline miles away with no family nearby.  This event began a long journey of medical, emotional, logistical, and physical stress for the couple.  One they had to maneuver as a twosome without the proximity of friends or family.  Life changing is an understatement and Patti's art, naturally, went to the back burner.

Forward to happier times: recovery well underway, back in their mountain bungalow and time to return to the studio although Patti is still a bit numb.  I was anxious to see what would happen when she put clay in her hands.  I expected a change, maybe a setback, maybe a few broken dishes, a lack of concentration or just some formless lumps while she found her groove.  But, in her words,

 "This new series wasn't a conscious plan; they just sort of formed themselves and I jumped aboard for the ride. After the ocean, waves, stars, boat/ark showed up,  I enjoyed reading about each component in my Book of Symbols. I dearly love the way the unconscious winds its way into and out of our art..."

Amazing.  Are you riding those waves?  Do you ever remember being tossed around, feeling out of control and looking skyward to the stars grateful that they were still where they were supposed to be?  That's authenticity.  That's life informing art.  Even if you did not know the story behind the feeling, you knew that something had provoked that feeling...it was not a copy of a "thing" because that "thing" sells well; it was/is the real McCoy.  Heart on a platter.  Soul bared.

As collectors of art we should  look for this.  We need to learn to read it, recognize it and try to understand it.  We actually need to demand it...we must communicate that we "get it."  When you "believe" a piece, when it is truly authentic, find out what is behind it, ask the artist to reveal the intent.  You will get double the pleasure and learn a lot about how life informs art.

Your thoughts?

Decoding the Symbols

This post is prompted in part by a story I was listening to recently on NPR.  They were announcing a still life show and began to discuss the humble status of the still life.  For non-artists, a still life is a painting of gathered objects which the artist arranges and lights before capturing on canvas.  I was unaware that in the art world this is the "lowliest of categories." What I did remember, and the story went on to elaborate, was that the still life often contains a secret code of the artists' choosing.  The use of symbols got me to thinking about the symbols I find in other painters work as well as the ones I find myself using.  But I get ahead of myself!

These are all symbols we easily recognize today, now referred to as logos.  Often we don't even need the word to distinguish them.  If I were to work one into a painting it might help convey an additional message to the viewer.  Thus it was when oil painters began years ago to share messages in their work. 

In this piece several symbols are used and, if you know the code, you would see a strong message in it.  Generally accepted notes remind us that certain foods and flowers represented the seasons as well as the five senses, the use of a skull was mortality, while an hour glass, a pocket watch, a burning candle or a book with pages turning was to remind viewers of the ephemerality of sensory pleasures. Brevity of life was a huge concern in centuries past.  At certain times religious symbols were not popular in art so other items took their place and lilies stood in for purity, the rose was the Virgin Mary, the apple related to Christianity and ivy symbolized eternal life.

The use of symbols in still life painting did not end in the 18th century and anyone who makes a study of this area will point out the iconography of more modern work.  Picasso's masterpiece "Guernica" is incredibly complex when time is taken to decipher the many symbols of international conflict he incorporated into it.

This is all prelude to suggest that those of us who find current still life paintings rather "hum drum" (oh, yawn...another seashell next to a dead fish...) give some extra time and thought to whether or not there is a message from the artist.  And yes, some are too obtuse to decode, but others just take a bit of time and creativity.  Often objects (pipes, slippers, eyeglasses) stand in for a particular person while toys may represent time gone by. 

Here are two random pastels I did in the past...see any similar trait?  I seem to like to paint "paths."  I look for areas that have a path or a road or a zig zag going through them.  I'll let you come up with an interpretation of that!

Right now I am working on a series that intentionally uses symbols to represent certain lives I am alluding to.  It has been fun trying to create a recognizable code to stand in for the words I cannot paint.  I am hopeful that some of them will strike a note as clearly to others as the burning candle did for viewers in centuries past.  We will see.

Meanwhile, all of this (blame NPR) was to alert you to the fact that while you are enjoying a piece for its color, form or fashion, there may also be a message hidden in it that the artist has planted for those intrigued enough to figure it out.  Try.  Give it a go and see what the symbols are telling you...even if you are not spot on to the artists' intent it will take still life viewing to a new level!

ArtFully Yours,
Cindy