learning to see
Part 1, which came second: end of semester / artist statement
In which the art taught me something, like it always does, and that something was a reminder rather than something new. It’s the same lessons – love, be not afraid, trust, stay – over and over again for this self who is by grace becoming a tiny bit more well-integrated.
+++
And here’s part 2, which came first.
“I’m stumbling in pursuit of grace.”
Sarah Kay
Appreciating the in-betweens seemed easier in Europe. Here I tend to move with calculation: settling into routes that are fastest, most efficient, most effective.
This summer, I rode high-speed trains and walked quickly but traveled with a spirit of slower awe, observing intensely the things around me, intending to see in a way that would do the surrounding beauty justice.
Noticing is an art, and art is rooted in practice. I’m still learning to see well.
A note to self:
Look up and around, notice.
Make observations of beauty part of your everyday.
Savor the in-betweens.
A lot of art education is process-oriented: if you want to paint, you have to pick up a brush. “Learning by doing.” Art history courses supplement this through their review of what has been considered great art over the centuries, the fundamental principles/elements of art and design, and the process of critical visual analysis. While these topics are all important, projected slides, textbook reproductions, and digital images simply can’t compare to experiencing art in person – when and where you can actually see the creative and technical processes as they originally unfolded.
I don’t know how to describe the feeling of standing inches away from some of the greatest paintings I’ve ever seen, noticing nuances in color and brushwork that I didn’t know existed. Or of taking in works of art created hundreds of years ago by someone who is a fellow artist, whose drive to create beauty gives us common ground in spite of the centuries that separate us.
It’s overwhelming, mysterious, beautiful, and proves to me again that art is powerful.
If you want to learn to paint, I think it’s absolutely necessary to spend time breathing the same air as the works that inspire you. See, appreciate, understand, disagree, wonder, feel. And then: create.
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.
Annie Dillard
This sentence by Annie Dillard makes me squirm every time I read it. This life is all we have. It’s made up of days and I want to use every one of them the best way that I can, doing things that are worthwhile, putting together a string of days that make up a live worth living. Since much of my day is habit-filled, it then follows that I should care about what I habitually do. And be ready to make non-routine decisions of life – well, with intention, and without fear – as they come. Continue reading “Thoughts on Habits (Part Three)”
