Spiralling around True North

 

Today I shared this image on my facebook page. I didn't say anything about the post as it never occurred to me that anyone might think that I might have made it.

But they did.  At least I think a couple of people did. Wow. First of all, I'm amazed to be credited with such an image. Secondly, I'm fascinated by what it was about this image that created some quite strong reactions. What energies does such an image carry that they communicate in some way to people from another culture, and possibly another time?

I don't have any information about who made this image, or when. It's from a book published in 2007 to celebrate the Wellcome Trust opening a new public venue in London. The book was edited by J. Peto and was called The Heart (Newhaven and London). It's a Kalighat painting, which means it could be ancient or made yesterday:

'Kalighat painting is a school of painting in Kalighat, a small district in Calcutta. It is named after the Hindu goddess Kali. Kalighat painting originated from the folk art tradition of rural Bengal. The Patuas or picture makers had migrated from Bengal in the early nineteenth century. There are a range of subjects from religious imagery of Hindu gods, goddesses and stories to natural history, social types and proverbs. The range of materials used in drawing are pencil, watercolour, indian ink and silver paint.'

It's a kind of weird synchronicity because I've been fascinated by the Patuas, who traditionally painted long narrative scrolls called Pats (20 metres or more, which as I understand it were unrolled as they told a story...) for over thirty years (anyone reading this who knows more about this/sees errors in my ideas, please get in touch!). In fact, my current long landscape paintings, I realised recently, are unconsciously echoing not only the horizontal walls of Indian mural paintings in places like Ajanta and Mattacheri Palace (which are all narrative), but the idea of the storytelling Pats specifically. Things seem to just circle back and spiral in mysterious ways.

For the record, I want to say that you are very unlikely to ever see me making an image of a Hindu god. I use artefacts, I steal colours, I unconsciously play with energies that I don't understand. But I don't make images of Hindu gods. If you want to know why, apply to read my 1994 Dissertation entitled: Symbol and Reality: The Embodiment of the Divine in the Sacred Images of India (School of Oriental Studies, University of London). 😁

Grounding metaphysical expansion

 

The first painting of 2024. I don't know what to make of it, as usual. Mainly I'm just glad it's here.

I never wanted to have a style. As soon as something looks like it might be repeating itself to some kind of formula, I get uncomfortable. Lots of people seem to find 'the thing they do' and then go on repeating some version of it, probably for many different reasons, one of which might be that it's just a relief not to have to face an empty page every time and wonder what to do. I can also see how a narrowing down, focussing in upon a particular investigation is its own kind of exploration and delight.

For me though this begins to feel like creative atrophy. If it starts to happen I feel I'm no longer simply providing conditions for emergence; no longer creating a space to be surprised in.  I'm being tempted to stay with something not entirely unsatisfying, perhaps to give my nervous system a break from the feeling of constantly putting one foot out in front of me off the edge of my cliff.

Right now I don't want to worry about these long landscapes being in danger of becoming safe or repetitious. Is it just the repetition of a slightly unusual format? Perhaps I think  sameness is appearing because of this format, but that's surely only because it's non-standard; who complains about the sameness of the A size proportions of repeating landscape or portrait formats?

I like the long landscape format because it feels different and strange, and also because it stretches my plants and birds and artefacts potentially into some kind of narrative, though whatever story it might tell is private to the mind of the viewer. I like that compared to the space in the more conventional format, which for me can sometimes be almost overwhelming. Like in the image below.... I'm unnerved by the way this image bypasses space, time and gravity; it throws me into a metaphysical space beyond the normal dimensions/limits which I need to ground my experience and my imagination.

I shared a quote on fb recently about ancient Chinese painters seeing artists' studios as a 'places of applied philosophy'. This seems to be working itself out through me whether I want it to or not, so for now I'm going to stick with my mythical landscapes, not least because they're being pretty insistent. Like I've said before, I just take dictation.