ArtiphyTheHeart

On Two Shores

My first involvement with artists on the web began with groups in the Netherlands and Germany, especially with Hermine Koster and Belinda Schneider.  What attracts me is the clean, clear attention to detail, and the choices of subject matter -- especially the surreal.  But what really draws me in is how the artwork valued in the German and Dutch groups seems to mirror my own choices in style, story and design.  

It has been a few years since I played with those groups, and I didn't realize just how much I missed it until Rosie told me about Marit's summer camp and encouraged me to play along, so I said, "Yes".

After I pitched my tent, I started exploring the wilderness, browsing at albums in both the English and the Dutch groups, and I felt like I'd gone home to one of my favorite vacation spots.  I grabbed my pack and hiked over to the community campground.  

I've got my feet on two shores this summer.  I'm also creating pages in Kelly's J.O.Y. workshop, and Kelly's in L.A.  Among other things Kelly suggested, was a book to put together and a combination of selected of materials to mix.  One of Marit's many suggestions involved a grayscale journal spread.  Not a problem. Both of these got my attention, and here's the result:

Answering a question that was asked in the comments of different post, I almost never choose my collage material with a theme or story in mind, and I don't illustrate what I write.  I choose from piles of images and materials that I think have visual appeal, sometimes randomly and sometimes in relation to one another, and get them on the page.  

Then I ask the page what it is, what's left wanting, and what needs to be tossed out, and I make decisions, solve problems, and resolve the issues of the page from a design point of view.  

When I'm finished, I look at it, walk away for a while, then come back and look at it again.  Sooner or later, it shows me something of myself.  Usually something unexpected hits me right between the eyes.  Then I write.  

Usually this is how it all unfolds, but not always.  My journals are my domain.  I'm in charge here, so rules are made and revised to suit and serve my purposes.  You might go about this process in an entirely different way.  There is no right way.  The process is all about the purpose, and people do collage, mixed media and journaling for many diverse personal reasons.  The right way is the way that serves your individual purpose.  What takes you farther from your own goals, not some arbitrary goal in general, would be the wrong way.  My cake, your poison, and vice-versa.  And I'm assuming here that staying alive and healthy is a common purpose, so of course practicing "safe art" is a given, right?  No rinsing paintbrushes soaked in cadmium yellow in the sink you use to scrub veggies...

Focus

I keep many plates spinning and balance many tasks, but I don't multi-task.  Many things to do, much to put in order, each deserving equal and maximum concentration.  It requires the ability to focus, and focus is earned through years of concentrated effort, until it becomes effortless.  The ability to effortlessly switch off from one task and switch on to another seamlessly, when necessary, without hesitation, naturally.

To fully and without distraction, be present in the moment.  For years, I thought I was there -- focused in the moment.  And then one day came when I really was there, and I knew the difference.   Those who don't have it think they're OK without it.  Those who have acquired it know they weren't alive before it.  

 

No Shortcuts

When I was at A.S.U., I almost skipped the first afternoon orientation for the college of liberal arts and sciences.  It wasn't required, and I thought it would be a long, dry, lecture in the A.S.U. Music Building, which we not-so-affectionately called the birthday cake, for obvious reasons...

ASU Music Building (via) 

...but I'm glad I didn't.  I'm glad because it was there that I was was surprised to hear one of the most conservative Dean's on campus say something very liberal-minded.  He told us that even if we all turned out perfectly, as defined by God and Man, he still would consider himself a dismal failure if even one of us did not think it an impossibility to refrain from life-long learning.  He said he viewed it as his calling in life to instill in each of us a love of learning, and to teach us the practical methods for achieving on-going methods of true learning, as opposed to the furtive attempts at study that are so often made in late adulthood by those who have missed the opportunities of their cravings.  I'll never forget that speech.  Ever!

With this man as Dean, I was led into a connected web of studies in the arts and humanities, in particular, art, art history, sociology and psychology, all taught by professors under a common policy from their Dean:  To teach students their respective subjects, and not to let them go until they had also been taught how to find sure paths to further learning once each final exam was finished.  He was adamant.  Determined.  His was the original "No student left behind" campaign, but it was about learning forever, long after the classroom was left behind.

Today's journal page (for J.O.Y.) has much to do with that man, and everything to do with his educational philosophy.  It was easy for me to grasp.  I had heard this first at home.  Not in words, but by example.  My parents were older than everyone else's.  Both of them were retired by the time I was three.  Yet while the younger parents complained, every day of my parents' lives was exciting to them.  Every new leaf, every new discussion.  Even through my father's prolonged illness, the zest for life was never absent.  I remember once asking my mother if she ever was bored, and she answered, "Only boring people are bored.  I'm way too busy with life to be bothered with anything as mundane as boredom".  I was in kindergarten.  And that's how it was.  My parents treated me as kindly as the child I was, and spoke to me as an adult.  For what it's worth, it worked.

Passing not just any torch, but the brightly burning one to new generations is the responsibility of everyone, at every stage of life.  It isn't merely the job of parents in the midst of parenting.  That look on your face in front of someone else's child...  Those angry words at the checkout counter, with God-knows-who's  five year old behind you listening with big ears...  Who cares if you're 60 or 16.  You have no right.  You have only obligations.  Let's pass on to the next generation a depth of knowledge, not shallow ignorance.

Thinking Beneath The Surface -- One Man's Cake Is Another Man's Poison

A post or two back, I mentioned dilemmas (see Regeneration), and how different they appear depending on your vantage point.  This page, created for JOY, follows that line of thought.  

Besides what it states obviously, it represents many things that are deeply personal to me which you could never guess by scanning the surface.  One which I will share, has to do with an Eastern European village that had vodka, but no drinkable water, for more than forty days.  While that may make you laugh and joke about how too much vodka could never be a problem, you'd be dismissing the plight of the children and animals that died there, and also, the ones that lived.  And for as many that died, the vodka also saved some.  No easy problems, no easy solutions.

When you pour your thoughts into every element of the page you are creating, you create more than a page.  You create a map to your thoughts which will resurface when scanning those pages many years later.  Artists learn to recognize and link their emotions.  A movement of the hand, the stroke of a pencil, the direction of a line, color, especially color, a photo, a picture or two, an assortment of carefully chosen words....  Without telling anything to anyone, you've preserved your own life, sure as formaldehyde.