At its best, a rabbit hole is a wonderful loss of sense of time, engrossed in the world of art-making. Like Alice in Wonderland waking from an outrageous dream, sometimes the return is disconcerting, the work uncertain. That’s why I write. When that too is a bust, I resort to Q&A as if being interviewed.
What are you trying to accomplish with this piece?
As you know, I’m testing THIS IDEA and within it is a framework of tensions inherent in working with light, space, and color.
Can you provide an example? A simple one, please.
Sure. If I take a leaf — found on its lonesome in the backyard snow — what happens when I insert into a different, unexpected setting. Encased in organza, it’s a silhouette surrounded by light coming through color.
Good question. Its shape, for sure, but definitely its decay — its disappearing. (Oh, another tension: existence vs. disappearance!) Color too, but shades of brown are as beautiful as autumn reds and golds. The more you look, the more you see. On a practical level, it helps if it is relatively flat and thin — better for pressing.
Well, in the spirit of Mingyur Rinpoche, I’m giving my monkey mind something to do. Each morning, I write about what I see and that leads to questions. For example, I have two burlap pieces – one soft, one stiff. What if I mix hard objects into the soft piece or soft objects into the stiff piece?
Speaking of the stiff piece, what’s up with that?
I’m living with it at the moment. I keep hanging objects off the protruding wires to see what they do — how they catch the light (or not), how they work with each other. I’m also thinking about how to incorporate glass, mirrors, and metal.
But that’s a rabbit hole for another day.