Trace

via Daily Prompt: Trace

Trace2Trace3

Two traces, two trains, two tracks of thought.

One emerges directly out of my own near total submergence, through January, February, and March of this year within the artistic and philosophical writings of Norwegian author Karl Ove Knausgaard, specifically the first five books of his My Struggle.

Each and all of those books struck a deep chord within me that he so wanted to track and trace deeply, profoundly, every possible living structure, the almost invisible threads of personal relationships with him and around him, the impossibly entangled webbings of every aspect of his own life, just as all the trees in a forest have an interlink (my metaphor), and actual delivery of sustenance through their own roots and those of an underground fungi, so does he come to understand what and who he is as a single person (or tree), and consequently, just who we all are as humans.  He doesn’t self-aggrandize; he doesn’t ennoble himself nor anyone else; he doesn’t offer the least bit of self-flattery but by his tracing of the infinitely subtle influences of his experience via his very life and relationships, he does arrive at a powerful portrayal of self and of us all.

The second route traces my own interest as artist in most new technologies as they arrive on the artistic scene.  In this unlikely instance, and using something as small as an iPad, one of my prime questions in 2017 has been: is there the faintest possiblity and potential to create something non-commercial, something artistic, something that might actually embody real artistic qualities — like Knausgaard’s– qualities one could truly describe as “painterly”, or “expressionistic”, or even full-body “gestural”: as in Picasso, Pollock, de Kooning?

It’s all too easy to find on the internet many thousands of illustrations that use digital means to come into being.  Most are fantasy based.  Often they are of a Gothic nature or of a Dragons and Dungeons genre, or are indistinguishable from artwork used in Digital Games.  Generally they appoint heroes/anti-heroes and go out of their way to romanticize and even deify them.  Invariably they are, in the way they are produced, enslaved to a photographic rendering that is extraordinarily high on craft but entirely missing in the free flowing art qualities I aspire to.

My experiments with iPad drawing have little resemblance to others I see on YouTube. But I am enthusiastic and pleased that I did find an expression very close to “painterly” and “gestural” in the larger art world sense of those words.  Here is a link to my earliest results. Sample three directly merges my reading materials with my artistic search:

https://youtu.be/PpH-dL1mhFo   Time-Lapse Drawings Fillière Fine Art V7

Spark

AbsDrawTitle5

As soon

as I decide to blog

but as yet without

a chosen flog

the word “spark”

unplanned, unsought,

and as yet unfiltered,

parks itself point blank,

behind/in front of

the dark third eye;

the outer eye premature, stressed,

worried as a hemp-rough bell-rope

fingered, palmed, dangled, waiting,

waiting taut to be pulled sore

at the front of the cue,

at the front for the cure:

where the lure of live art

queues up like a ritual

Guy Fawkes Five

or a banner spangled Four.

AbsDrawTitle4

Like any old flash

all steeple tense,

all tower taut,

all seriously trigger-happy,

the bell-ringer’s incendiary fingers

ring out, tell out,

draw,

paint out

the negative charge,

the positive hots,

the hot spots and the cold spots

of yesterday’s within.

Tooling the Temporary

via Daily Prompt: Temporary

Ft. Amherst 1

Transitory light of a setting sun emblazons the Fort Amherst south-side headland of St. John’s, NL in late April 2015. The viewpoint, from the Signal Hill side of The Narrows, is evanescent and spectacular where a climber, high, high, high amongst the rocks is breathless with vertigo not only from the steep climb up from The Battery, but from the stunning beauty of the distant view of lighthouse, houses, and support buildings in their dazzling display of white structures with red roofs, set against steep, stark shadows. Below them there is a large, steeply pitched area of withered grass with just a hint of seasonal change to green. Below that, several grey World War 2 concrete defence bunkers, with their crude early forms of architecture brut perched precariously, scrunched down, pretending to be equals of ancient, eternal crag, scarp, and cliff. At the final level down is the patient ocean with its longing to subdue the vain concrete forms.

A little offshore some pack ice and bergs imperceptibly drift into intertidal oblivion. The climber, clinging and resting amid some shrubbery in a rock crevice, steadies herself with one hand, and with the other raises her phone to capture the ephemeral scene. Breath held and then there is one barely audible fleeting click to record it, and some other clicks to send a copy on to me and others.

This week, two years later, I’ve used cousin Brenda’s photo to interpret the scene in what is considered to be the most useful medium to capture transient and fleeting effects: watercolour.  Perhaps I can tool the temporary into something that might endure, like the bunkers, for at least some generations beyond my immediate goal.

Ft. Amherst 2