Archive for November, 2009

Norman Adams, RA

Monday, November 30th, 2009

Art has always been related to Spirituality. I can’t conceive of art without it.

Norman Adams RA, (1927-2005)

Rainbow Painting (1) 1966, Norman Adams RAThe above quote is written on the back of a card I bought from The Royal Academy, which I rediscovered recently. Rainbow Painting (1) 1966 has been glued to my studio wall for at least a couple years, and it still makes me smile.

As a romantic artist I suppose my concern is with the usual problems of life-death, body-soul, tangible-intangible, time-space etc. The translucent and ephemeral quality of the rainbow contrasts powerfully with the weight of the sea. Yet both rainbow and sea are complete entities—independent yet integrally related—like the body and the soul.

Norman Adams RA

He once described himself as a ‘compulsive believer’. There are many religions that people believe in: Norman could believe in them all…

www.normanadams.mfbiz.com

a new stage

Monday, November 30th, 2009

The important issue is psychological. How much fear are you willing to live with? When this hurdle is cleared, when personal integrity is more important than being accepted within the system, a new stage begins.

Deepak Chopra, How To Know God

PROJECT 11:11 : The Synopsis

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

PROJECT 11:11

• – - – - : • – - – -PROJECT 11:11

Ink on Paper

11 works
11 months

born NOV 2009: 11:11
conceived JAN 2009: 1:11
1st full moon of the year

another heavenly body
Neil Armstrong APOLLO 11

21 DEC 2012 @ 11:11am
end of Mayan Calendar
WE: the human race
The 11th Hour

FREEDOM

appears 11 times in The New Testament

ON:ON

illumination:illumination

Round, like the heavenly bodies that govern the measurement of time.
Movement: Guido Mocafico

Α∩Ω

PROJECT 11:11 has been inspired by
11:11
In The Shadow Of The Moon: Ron Howard
Movement: Guido Mocafico

PROJECT 11:11 now available on-line @ VESNA ABSTRACT>ART>INK ON PAPER

MEDITATION 11:11

project 11:11

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

11 months in conception

11 works completed

11:11

the new art collection

PROJECT 11:11

• – - – - : • – - – -


coming soon


the morning post no.4

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

11:11:11

The next step in human evolution is not inevitable, but for the first time in the history of our planet, it can be a conscious choice.

Who is making that choice?

You are.

And who are you?

Consciousness that has become conscious of itself.

Your inner purpose is to awaken. It is as simple as that.

You share that purpose with every other person on the planet – because it is the purpose of humanity.

Eckhart Tolle

The 11th day of the 11th month, in a year that carries 11 energy, I’m stopping at 11:11am to think about what I’d like for our planet, for humanity, for our future. I hope you do the same.

Love, Light & Peace on Earth.

V

Ψ

ARTICLE link

11:11 This Is Your Wake-Up Call

Meditation 11:11


the morning post no.3

Tuesday, November 10th, 2009

The Art of Living

There are three words
that convey the secret
of the art of living,
the secret of all success
and happiness:
One With Life.

Eckhart Tolle


Yesterday, I had a Jean-Paul Sartre ‘3 in the afternoon’ moment, except mine was at around 10:30 last night, too early to stop, too late to do anything, none of my books were singing out to me. And then I spotted my Eckhart Tolle inspiration cards out the corner of my eye. Never was there a more perfect time to review them, then after a day where my thoughts had taken over the asylum.
Gifts often come in the most unexpected packages… when we are awake enough to see them.

V


anything is possible

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

…there’s another kind of love… one that gives you courage to be better than you are, not less than you are, one that makes you feel that anything is possible.
I want you to know that you can have that,
I want you to hold out for it,
I want you to know that you deserve it.

Nights In Rodanthe, character Adrienne played by Diane Lane

the morning post no.2

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

Spectacular sunshine…

in London this morning, WOW. I woke up to the prospect of clearing and re-decorating my studio (big sigh), made easier by the beautiful weather and a great morning shuffle.

7 tunes for 7:11, in order of play;

1. La Viguela: Gotan Project: Lunatico
2. Celos: Gotan Project: Lunatico
3. Gabriel 1: Robert Haig Coxon: The Silent Path
4. Under The Bridge: All Saints
5. Every Minute: Vargo: Beauty
6. O Come O Come Emmanuel: Enya: And Winter Came
7. The Look Of Love: Dusty Springfield

An amazing day to be alive!
Paint brush, anyone?

V

spiritual art

Friday, November 6th, 2009

Concerning The

Spiritual

In Art

Why spiritual art?
Why not just art?
You’re weird aren’t you… you’re one of those?

Back in early 2000 and something, I did a couple years of undergraduate study in philosophy with The Open University. I was really excited about it. I experienced an amazing first year exploring The Human Situation, and my second year was a focus on the field I love the most… art.
What could possibly go wrong?

Music Conducted In The Rain

Music Conducted In The Rain

I was really organised, mind-maps at the ready, prepping from word go for my end of year exam.
While almost having completed the course, I spent one evening reviewing my notes. In doing so, I became aware of feeling intensely frustrated; I realised that I didn’t believe in any of the information I was willingly committing to memory.

When it came to exploring the question What Is Art?, nothing I had been instructed to read came even close to tapping the truth. At the time, I couldn’t quite grasp what the truth might look like… but I knew it was out there, like space… another frontier, hopefully not so final. This particular realisation came as a bit of a blow at the time, which presented me with a dilemma. Do I memorise utterly useless information and outdated concepts for the sake of passing my second year, or do I quit now before I do any lasting damage to my synapses?
I decided that encouraging my ability to think for myself was more important, and so I defiantly boycotted the exam.

While I continued to read the odd bit of Bertrand Russell, my imagination was being gently captivated by the metaphysics section of the book store. One mind-bending book led to another, which would thus lead to another five, and so on, multiplying like rabbits on Viagra. Years later, my home resembles some strange landscape of totem stalagmites, made entirely of books, depositing in obscure places, and in alternate subject layers of art and spirituality.
A good friend and Demartini practitioner said to me ‘ten minutes in a persons home and I’ll tell them exactly what their life purpose is.’

Well. It took me a little longer than ten minutes. Try ten years.

I now realise that the frontier had come to me; a precipitated truth in the shape of book deposits. The concept of spirituality in art was now dripping upwards from my book totems and slowly crystallizing between my ears.

Synchronously, in the summer of 2006, Tate Modern exhibited The Path To Abstraction, an impressive collection of 80 Kandinsky works charting his journey through The Blue Rider group and Bauhaus periods. The Tate describes Wassily Kandinsky as;

‘a modernist master’ who ‘began to conceive of painting as an alternative pathway to spiritual reality… In abstraction, Kandinsky felt that he had discovered a spiritual reality which was more powerful for not being tied to the outside world – an alternative music for the senses.’

Swallows In My Dreams

Swallows In My Dreams

This was one art exhibition I felt compelled to visit. Even so, it was yet another two years before I read Kandinsky’s seminal work, Concerning The Spiritual In Art. The artist explores concepts of inner resonance or vibration of the soul as spiritual experience, facilitated by art, specifically the cause and effect of painting and colour on the soul.

It began to dawn on me that art and spirituality, within the current context of western culture, generally appear to be presented to us with an inference of mutual exclusivity. Mixing the two feels very much taboo. While there has been a renaissance in mind body spirit associated subjects in the past decade, there seems to be a black hole when it comes to serious exploration of the spiritual within art. This only serves to highlight, not only the significance of Kandinsky’s work, but the courage it must have taken to propose such theories, especially in a time devoid of the spiritual awakening we are now experiencing.

The spiritual in art is a part of every indigenous culture, indeed the indigenous Way is one of Spirit which guides every aspect of life, and is therefore inseparable from their higher forms of expression. This is not a new concept, this is an ancient practice that has been marginalised (as have the indigenous) in the race for egoic power. However, times are a changing, the feminine principle is making her presence felt, we are in the throws of rediscovering our spiritual roots once again. This is the early train to recovery, destination: Spirit.

Michelangelo is quoted as having said ‘the true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.’ This implies a creativity that strives for such perfection. Our creations can only ever be a reflection of our true state. It is impossible to escape the reality of what we have created for ourselves thus far, and yet it is entirely possible, critical even, that we take responsibility for our creations. Only then can we truly expect to elevate ourselves from mere struggle for survival. It is in the striving, the creative process, that we reach for a better version of ourselves. It is time that we recognise, openly acknowledge, and celebrate the relationship between art and spirituality, contrary to what society would have us believe, as inseparable. Like Picasso once said, ‘God is really only another artist.’

V

Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Thursday, November 5th, 2009

Jonathan Livingston SeagullThe saying goes that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. My latest teacher is a bird that goes by the name of Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

‘…it is right for a gull to fly, that freedom is the very nature of his being, that whatever stands against that freedom must be set aside, be it ritual or superstition or limitation in any form.
“Set aside,” came a voice from the multitude, “even if it be the Law of the Flock?”
“The only true law is that which leads to freedom,” Jonathan said. “There is no other.”

…the most important thing in living was to reach out and touch perfection in that which they most loved to do, and that was to fly.’ Jonathan Livingston Seagull cover

Someone very clever said to me recently, we have to fly, don’t we?

Yes, I believe we do.

V

Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a book by Richard Bach. First published in 1970, the cover illustration has really stood the test of time, as have the interior images, photographed by Russell Munson… deceivingly simple in their beauty. This little book is a treasure.

In Formation, Jonathan Livingston Seagull


paintings on canvas

Wednesday, November 4th, 2009

The Musician,

The Butcher,

The Weaver,

and the Two Miserable Bastards

I have a story for you.

Solka was the town’s musician. Once a month, everyone would gather in the market place to celebrate life by dancing the night away, where Solka would provide the music. It was customary for the penultimate tune to be a Solka special, a brand new composition, which became increasingly experimental by the month and would generally receive mixed reviews;

‘Solka, that was terrible, you ruined my night, I think you should have your ears waxed!’ cried the Cobbler.

‘Yeh Solka, da woz well dodgy, yu gettin worz a’ dis, no bette, stik to old ones mayte,’ said the Tailor.

The Butcher raised her hands in the air, ‘hey, don’t be beatin’ up on the guy! Solka… don’t listen to them, they talk rubbish all night, I think you’re new song is great… I love it.’ The Butcher consults the Weaver, ‘it’s great stuff, right?’

PLAY ME!

PLAY ME!

They all turn to the Weaver, who shrugs, ‘I don’t know nothin’ bout music man, leave me alone.’

Solka would take a silent swig from his beer while grinning from ear to ear. This would vex the Tailor no end, ‘I don kno wat yu smile at yu bastar, but yu makin mi earz bleed!’, at which point the Tailor would take a sharp dig in the ribs from the Butcher.

And so it went, every month, every year, and every decade, until all the townsfolk had passed, including Solka the Musician.
Once the last of them had passed, they all gathered on the other side of the veil for a celebration of their lives lived. Solka joined the crowd, beer in hand, of course.

‘Solka!’ exclaimed the Butcher, ‘what you doing here with us, you should be up there playing your music?’

‘I thought I’d take a break and celebrate with you guys instead.’ Solka smiled sweetly.

The Cobbler and the Tailor looked at one another, and then at Solka, ‘no bein’ funni mayte bu’ probly bette chance of decen’ muzik from de angels right?’ said the Tailor.

‘Christ!’ exclaimed the Butcher, ‘you just can’t give the guy a break, can you, not even now?!’

Solka laughed, while re-directing their gaze to the angel musician who was right on time. The music started playing, and everyone jumped to their feet to dance. There was more love and laughter in the air that night than ever before, it was a great celebration.

‘Ang on a mini,’ exclaimed the Tailor, ’somthin’ wrong wid de muzic!’

The Butcher grabbed Solka’s arm, ‘oh my God Solka, the angels are playing your tunes!’

The Cobbler turned to Solka, ‘ok sunny, how much did you slip the angel?’

‘I always knu yu wer dodgy bastar Solka,’ said the Tailor.

‘You guys can just shut the hell up, because look, everyone is having an amazing time, including me… and the only miserable bastards here are you two!’ exclaimed the Butcher.

‘Well, I no care de angels pley yor staff Solka, iz still shit… wid capitol T!’ said the Tailor.

‘Are you ever gonna talk Solka, or are we faced with your grin for eternity?’ asked the Cobbler.

‘It’s not ‘my‘ shit guys, never was. I just listened carefully to what the angels were playing, and did my best to play it back to you, that’s all.’ said Solka. The Butcher gave Solka’s arm another squeeze.

The Cobbler turned to the Tailor, ‘it kinda grows on you…’

The Tailor turned to the Weaver and asked, ‘and yu, I supowz yu think iza fantaztik az well?’

The Weaver shrugs, ‘hey, like I said before, I don’t know nothin’ bout music man, leave me alone.’

From that day on, the Cobbler and the Butcher would always turn up to Solka’s gigs, and dance the night away.
The Weaver, well… he decided it was time to get educated, he’s now in music school, and loving it. He has a particular passion for bass guitar.
As for the Tailor, he eventually became one of Solka’s biggest fan’s, and now runs his fan club.

Δ

When I stand at the canvas, I never quite know what is about to take place. No matter how much planning, the work tends to do its own thing… if I’m lucky… if I’m listening… really carefully.

V




the morning post

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…

Rose Walker, fictional character from the Sandman, by Neil Gaiman

I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.

Mother Theresa (1910-1997)

For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.

Judy Garland (1922-1969)


original art

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

Ever So Slightly Unconventional Ånarchic Tendencies…

Å

The Awakening

PUSH MY BUTTON, I DARE YOU

To suggest that artists are an-archê, or without-sovereignty would be misleading; artists are sovereign alright, self-sovereign. What true artist stands poised at the canvas and thinks to themselves, how can I be original today? I’ll tell you… none. The artist is The Unconventional Anarchist, recognising no other master but herself, who begins from her core and works her way out to the current misnomer of reality. The very fact that she stands at a canvas at all, is testament to an independent spirit. She doesn’t give a stuff how her work is, or will ever be perceived, it would be missing the entire point of the process. To quote sculptor Louise Nevelson, ‘the very nature of creation is not a performing glory on the outside, it’s a painful, difficult search within.’
Think about the essence of how we are; creativity is innate, primordial and necessary to the survival and prosperity of the human spirit. But why? What is it that we are searching for exactly? Scientists, sociologists, psychologists, spend endless amounts of time and resource excavating how and what we are, but who is digging on who we are? The metaphysicians, thats who. The artist is the private metaphysician and alchemist rolled in one, excavating the soul by means of blending matter that happens to be at our disposal. The gold we are working to manifest must reflect us, all of us, an infinite number of facets and dimensions of who we truly are. This is no job for the feint hearted, especially in today’s material world. Everywhere we go, we are told what to do, watch, buy, appreciate, get angry about, how to behave and think, even how, when and who to love. We’ve allowed this state of play to continue at the cost of our spiritual integrity.

So what does being original really mean in the context of art, and society’s value system de rigueur? How about an independent mind, body and spirit? So when the true artist stands at the canvas, she asks ‘who am I now’, knowing full well that the answer morphs as a consequence of asking the question itself.

And so given this criteria, I ask you, how could the art be anything but original?

V

i woke up to…

Monday, November 2nd, 2009

…gorgeous sunshine and a playlist shuffled by the gods;

1. Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor IV Adagietto: Daniel Barenboim: Mahler (the only version)

2. You Are All I Need To Get By: Aretha Franklin

3. Paris, Texas: Gotan Project: Lunatico

4. Stokkseyri: Jonsi & Alex: Rice Boy Sleeps (pure bliss)

V

tis fate vicar

Monday, November 2nd, 2009

It is fate… but call it Italy if it pleases you vicar!

A Room With A View, character George Emerson