“To live a truly creative life, we always need to cast a critical look at where we presently are, attempting always to discern where we have become stagnant and where new beginning might be ripening. There can be no growth if we do not remain open and vulnerable to what is new and different. I have never seen anyone take a risk for growth that was not rewarded a thousand times over.” -John O’Donohue, from “To Bless the Space Between Us”
Last weekend I went to the closing of an exhibition I was part of. The next day I arrived back at the gallery with my packing materials. I began dismantling the installation, one piece at a time, dozens of cut grids of paper representing clearcut forest land in the Pacific Northwest accumulating in my storage portfolio. I carefully took the main body of the painting down from the wall and rolled it up in thick plastic sheeting. What took weeks to make and days to install came down in 30 minutes.
When a show comes down I experience a little let-down– usually, it’s just a day or two but it can be weeks if it was an entire body of work culminating in a solo show. There is always a sense of space, a pause, sometimes a need for rest and reflection. This week was that pause. I worked on other things, but I’ve been thinking, too, about what’s next. The painting I brought back is rolled up on the floor of my studio, and while it looks inert, it is giving off sparks. It feels alive with potential, like a seed. A seed for more work like this one, work that is expansive, and assertive, embodying a clear message about our rapidly changing environment.
This is a shift for me, this clarity in the message. I’ve made a lot of artwork about environmental changes, but I’ve always had a tentative, ambiguous approach, like a crab on the beach diagonally skirting something it is interested in but also a little cautious of. This may sound silly, but I’ve never thought of my work or myself as environmentally informed or “activist enough” to engage with environmental themes directly or talk about them much. I typically don’t apply for grants, residencies, or shows that are environmentally focused, vaguely anxious that my work is too aesthetic and not challenging enough. Instead, I’ve carved out a comfortable little space for myself in the role of “witness”. The root of my process is “I notice and interpret/transmit things from the landscape” and that has never felt like enough to qualify my work as environmental. Like, if it doesn’t make people uncomfortable, it’s not worthy of a grant or a show. Somehow, in this particular work, my thinking and execution integrated. I landed on something that is aesthetically parallel with what I’ve been making for years but much clearer in its intent and message.
Undoing “not enough” thinking is like tending a garden. Each year, we pull the weeds so that they don’t crowd out the plants we want to grow and flourish, but it is an ongoing process, and each year we refine our plot a bit more. But the work does not end; each spring, the “not enough” weeds are back, demanding our attention. The same seedlings show up year after year, and sometimes the wind has blown new uninvited visitors to our garden. Teasing out “not enough” thinking is like that–a continual refining. Identifying layers, from loud and obvious to more subtle and persistent, pulling those weeds of thought, and creating more space for our kinder and more productive thoughts to stretch out in the light and grow. Our work is indeed enough. Sometimes it just needs some time for development and growth. To mature in full sunlight.
I’m excited to see where this seed of a painting leads me next and I’m excited to make more large-scale cut paper installations. But I am most grateful for this new clarity about how I think about my landscape work, how ideas come together for me, and how I make and communicate meaning.
What about you—what’s new in your practice this week? What weeds are you pulling and throwing on the metaphorical compost heap? What seeds are you tending? Until next week,
Links:
Big thanks to fellow artist Francis Baker who curated the show “Far Away is Now”, the 120710 Art Space, and all of the artists involved.
The quote above is from an article about John O’Donohue by Maria Popova via The Marginalian
Something wonderful: Tree.fm lets you listen to forests around the world :)
Resonates deeply. Currently feeling deep shifts in practice in the sense of really letting go and shedding down to the essentials. I'm always drawn to simplicity and quiet detail yet those whispers of not-enoughness are always swirling. Fortunately, as I strip away the layers of pieces, I'm letting go of outside opinion (that lives in my head). Feels good to shake things up and be surprised. The weeds will come, but I'm not so worried about what I "should" be planting and how. Just seeing where it all goes in real-time.
This piece grabbed my attention and thought it was powerful in its message. I love your clarity around it as well. Bravo