La Frontera
Thicket Ensconced in Snakes-mixed media photograph |
Painting (I use the term painting to represent all fine art practices) is a
wonderful thing because it diminishes boundaries. The practice of
painting widens and unifies my world concept, knocking down distinctions
and their attendant distractions. Painting makes me more humane. A
world of distinctions creates boundaries between myself and others, and
boundaries further the sense of other which opens the doors of
objectification. When there are racial distinctions, ethnic
distinctions, gender distinctions, age distinctions et. all, a
delineation between self and other is drawn and when the other is seen as outside of the self, the doors of inhumane treatment are opened. The other
is now an external object and is party to a world of abuses. We begin
to lose our humanity when we make distinctions. We parley away our
freedoms when we create boundaries. We are no longer free to roam the
wide open frontiers of existence, but are instead bound fast and held
tight to the tiny hamlets of our tepid imaginations. Our minds begin to
create the world rather than experience it, and we become lost in the
rigid, totalitarian constructs of our corporeal templates.
As I've said before, what I like about painting is that it changes my mind. Painting unscrews the lid from the jar of world unity and allows passage to vast new territories unbridled by boundaries, borders or check points. My best work seems to be not my work at all, but rather the product of letting go of my control and letting the paint lead me. The paint undoes my judgments and makes use of things I've rejected. The paint is always teaching.
I took an early evening walk at Granite Mountain today and was taken by the moody light and shadow-fall. A storm is incoming and the extra moisture in the air diffused the remaining daylight. The earth looked heavy and solid, a dark underling beneath the whitewashed sky, reminiscent of Italian landscapes. The Southwest skies here are extraordinary, endlessly shifting and bending the light.
These photos were taken as prototypes for drawings and watercolors, and I was able to pull out the aspects that I wanted with my computer photo program. I increased shadow and highlights while decreasing contrast, and the results are moody and smolder like the diffused light in the early Dutch master's works. During the Monsoons, I've seen light run along the ground the way a flood of water would move. As the clouds travel swiftly across the sky under the sun, waves of light and shadow pass over the earths terrain in quick succession.
I like these images because much of the detail is lost and the crispness is blunted. They look like portals to another world, like dreams in passing. They have a quiet sense, like the vesper hour that is swiftly approaching.
On a more humorous note, I also found a dog poop enso. A perfect little ring of dog poop bleached white under the Arizona sun. Enso is a common circle form seen in Japanese calligraphy. Enso's origins appear to come from Zen Buddhism, symbolizing enlightened mind. It's said that the internal state of the calligrapher is revealed in the way they paint the enso, and I suppose that, in turn, it could be said that the internal state of the dog is revealed by the way they poop the enso. And it's back to the proverbial question " does a dog have Buddha nature?"