Between the artist’s seeing eye, their moving hand and the viewer’s reception there is a cat’s cradle of exchange, the tauter and better formed the richer the pattern becomes.
The paradox is in letting go of straining after this communication, allowing silence to expand and fill the anxious uncertainty of creativity. Perhaps more like coming to, and finding yourself somewhere new and unexpected yet implacably familiar.
Andrew Marvell expressed this eloquently in his seventeenth-century poem The Garden.
Our consciousness is transfigured by the power behind nature“to a green thought in a green shade,” an effect I aspire for my work to induce, similar to the sense of metanoia being a turning towards light.
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