The Garden of Composition

December 27, 2019  •  2 Comments

Art is the interaction of many forces. This image is the result of the creativity of the sculptor. Of the landscape artist(s) who laid out the garden. Who formed the curves of the paths. Positioned the fences. Chose the plants. It is the result of every attempt ever made to visually represent what was seen so others could see it. From tracing lines in the sand to painting on the walls of caves to Monet to 3D special effects, all art, good and bad, is connected. So is the technology. Whether it is learning to use a stick to draw in the sand or that hairs can make brushes and bushes and other things can make pigments for paints or that camera obscuras can magically capture images all the way up to an old man with a head full of art slides who is equipped with a Nikon camera and a Sigma arts lens out playing art in the garden of composition. Sometimes I feel like a puppet being moved around until I am in the exactly right spot to see the incredible beauty of how forces come together.

 

 

 


Walking in the rain with Monet in the garden

December 16, 2019  •  Leave a Comment

 

Cold and wet, rain all day long, overcast and dark, what a lovely day to be in the garden. Creativity for me is a solitary pursuit. I seldom go out to take photos in nature with someone tagging along. I want to be alone with the living  muse. A cold and rainy garden provides the perfect setting.

 

Although I am alone, I am not alone. Every piece of artwork I have ever seen walks with me. Monet, let me look through your eyes. Come walk with me. Your garden is not just in France it's everywhere you walk, where you see.

 

All visual art begins with seeing. If you cannot see art when you look then you cannot create art. You might be very skilled technically but unless you can see art, your photographs may be very good but they will not be art. 

 

Some years back I helped juror an art show. Two photographs didn't make it. One was badly out of focus, very blurred. The other was very well focused but had no focus. Is it in focus, and what is the focus are two basic elements for me when it comes to photography. You can take an excellent picture of a banana duct-taped to the wall. What's the point? Is it art?   

 

Which brings me back to the old joke of when the devil first saw Eden. "Yes, it is beautiful. But is it art?"

 

I am art creating art. Do I create the art or does art create me to create art? What say you, Plato, of the eternal forms dancing and shifting here like the shadows on the wall of a cave? Am I the art or the artist? Am I both?


Guardian of the Garden - Beauty of the Beast

December 12, 2019  •  Leave a Comment

 

There is no beauty without there being ugliness. There can be no good without there being bad with which to compare it. The more one opens to the beauty of the world, the more one sees the incredible ugliness. Life can be so wonderful. Life can be so senselessly brutal. Not only life but as people are the same. We can be so wonderful to each other that it is heavenly. We can be so cruel that is a living hell. The guardian of the way scares away the timid. For to know great  truth, one must see the evil along with the good. One hears the songs of bliss and joy, as well as the cries and wails of the world. Welcome to the veil of tears, the garden of creation itself.


The Muse Arises

December 11, 2019  •  Leave a Comment

 

All art arises from nature as do humans. I love this piece and its placement in the garden. The texture of the sculpture and the garden are so alike. Kudos to whomever placed the sculpture in this spot.

 

What are the emotions of the figure? Is it elation, satisfaction, a sense of oneness? A sense of oneness with both the beauty and brutality of life? As there is no light without darkness there is no beauty with ugliness. There is no good without bad. In the garden of good and evil the artist arises to share a vision, to share what is seen, what is felt. The artist is the eyes of the world.

 


The Guardian Muse

December 10, 2019  •  Leave a Comment

How many times have we strolled alone, my guardian muse? I remember you well from my childhood days. On Sundays, my preacher father carried us to rural churches in the backwoods of south Georgia. After Sunday dinner at someone's house, often there would be no kids to play with and what kid wanted to sit around with adults discussing theology? It was with you, my guardian muse, that I roamed the fields and woods, mesmerized by reflections of clouds and trees in ponds. It was you, my guardian muse, who sit with me during long church services with sermons lasting well over an hour, it was you moving me from one position to another position to the angles lined up just right. It is you, oh, muse, that walks with me now as I retreat from the messy whirlwind of the world, the anger and confusion howling around. It is you that walks with me through the garden of creation.

 

 

 

 

 

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