;

Revealing the Heart

| No Comments


During the Northern Song dynasty in China, the ink used in landscape painting and calligraphy contained a portion of glue which adhered it to the paper and made the artist or calligrapher's marks instantly permanent.

The painter took great pains to center himself and set his mind and body in harmony with nature and the order of the cosmos so that in a single gesture, he could release his energy, or chi. The process of channeling one's energy while trying to concentrate on depicting the objective truths of the observed world would then show the artist's inner subjectivities and character, in other words, connect these two worlds and reveal the artist's heart.

For this reason, handwriting was the strongest indicator of good character and morality, and paramount importance was placed on a painter's brush strokes.

I've been thinking a lot about this notion of art making and viewing, and I've been trying to reconcile it in particular with Western, contemporary art. If I were to make paintings and say they were a moment of connection between my inner world and the universe (which is essentially what I've done and said), would people understand? Would they feel and relate to my experience, and perhaps more worryingly, would they care?

When we look at art, are we concerned with the artist's inner life, spirituality, or moral character? Should we be? Is the idea of viewing a painting for contemplation and edification, such that the artist is a conduit between inner and outer worlds and that by viewing it we can see both the workings of the cosmos and see within ourselves, at all relevant or tangible in this present world? Do we seek knowledge or understanding from painting, or have literature, film, and other media taken its place?

Why do we look at paintings, and what determines the time we spend with them? What in a painting resonates as truthful and genuine, and what comes off excessively polished or made to please others?

I also wonder, as I sit with my cup of water and eyedropper of ink, am I being honest with my painting? Am I doing my part to properly center my mind and body, to connect with the world and the universe... or am I simply letting the materials do what they do? Am I revealing my heart, and if so, what does it show?

Does my painting express how deeply I love music? Does it communicate a deep spiritual need for kindness and fairness? Does it reveal that I'm afraid of dying? Does it tell that I am going to have Chef Boyardee for dinner, just because I can?

In a particularly melodramatic time in college, a friend asked me to charge a deck of tarot cards so he could do a reading. As cynically as my nineteen years could muster, I muttered that at the moment I felt like I'd lost my soul, and he looked at me thoughtfully and said, "Well then it'll show that too."

I think about that moment often, and I consider what that looks like, how we see these depths of human experience and emotion. I think that what I'm trying to do in painting is paint the interstitial moments, the things that happen between viewings of mountains, and the truths we find while staring absent-mindedly across a subway track.

In this way, I may not do anything obviously beautiful or awe-inspiring, but I have to think that if it's done with an honesty of heart, it may reveal something to others and help them better see themselves and the world they inhabit.

Leave a comment

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Vicki published on September 13, 2007 6:51 PM.

They know what matters was the previous entry in this blog.

Once a procrastinator... is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.