"Speech came out of silence, out of the fullness of silence.
The fullness of silence would have exploded
if it had not been able to flow out into speech"
- Picard, 1948/1952, p.24 The World of Silence.
A Journey through Creative Process
It's dark everywhere, so begin anywhere. Drawing from life, my mind wanders and makes unlikely connections. As I sat on a bench in downtown Victoria, a Jehovah's witness offered me a newsletter, Awake. I said "No, thank you. I am awake"
Allow events to change you. It's crucial to be awake and to recognize glimmering threads and silvery stars. These are two photographs I took in Vancouver. There is much poetry in the mundane. Both hang precariously, quivering with fragility. I can hear the potential clash of glass or the tragic crush of cocoons.
Start with intuition. This requires trust and belief. I respond with images and words. I explore tangents. I tug at the thread and it leads me to paths, dead-ends and labyrinths.
Multi-task. Avoid paralysis. In studio, if no deadline is looming, I don't spend more than 30 minutes on one activity. I jump from one thing to another. It gives me room to stop, pause, reflect and return. In studio, I have a voice hovering over me, criticizing, advising and questioning. I am awake and my heart, body and mind recognize, acknowledge and respond to happy accidents, strange pairings and the constant renovations. The key is to keep moving.
To plan and to produce. I like to plan, mostly alone. I talk to a few kindred spirits; I have enough voices in my head. I read lots, draw a little and write even more. And then I become a factory.
To reflect and to review. The work is done. My regrets and shortcomings are more apparent now. It's always a mixture of success and failure, with different ratios. Time helps to decide. I realize now that this installation began last summer when I came here with one book in hand, And Our Hearts, My Face, Brief as Photos
I can see the thread more clearly now. It's a matter of reduction.