At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is. But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance…*
As years go by the work of creating art, work that one does to earn a living, and life in all its permutations become less possible to separate. Each one informs and supports, but also robs from the other. There is no real possibility of balance until the parts are simplified through the shifting of time. Artists are always seeking the still point, where extended moments exist without the sense of before or after. The dance of creation is perfectly still.
In Ireland this summer I was able to experience the still point in free-floating time, unhinged from my moorings, feeling new in every day unfolding in one beautiful environment after another. Days were about absorbing and working solely from inner direction, and each contained a surprise.
Most of the time this is not possible, though we make the effort to consciously clear space for moments and notice them when they arise. We generally work in fits and starts throughout days that require many different things. In whole or in part we work hard on one aspect to the sacrifice of the others. Nothing, however, is ever wasted. The attempt is work that matters and each amount of progress counts. Long achievements require long efforts over long time. Thankfully, as we remain breathing we are repeatedly given twenty-four hours to use as productively as possible.
As if fated, over the past ten years an extensive project demanded to be done such that I could not ignore its need. I felt impelled to do it (#1)—NOW(#2)—not set it aside for some future in which I would have leisure time to devote to it. When we have time we may not have the ability or the financial possibilities. When we have the money, the desire, the physical capability, or any number of other things may have significantly changed. I think that when a creative idea takes hold with a vengeance we cannot wait to pay attention to it.
My attention was claimed by trying to figure out how to take on a project that I did not have the training for but felt that I had to do, coupled with the need to continue to be viable as an artist. In the realm of a scholar I was an amateur. In the realm of the art world I was not approaching the content conceptually enough. For some within the non-art world I was not being traditional enough. Who, then, was my intended audience? In the beginning I attempted to continue to make art that had nothing to with this growing interest, keeping the new project quietly aside. It became increasingly impossible, however, to continue to keep both endeavors functioning without overlapping. A positive side-outcome was that I learned a myriad number of skills I might never have attempted or exercised.
I ended up teaching many of the new processes, techniques and materials I was using in my own work, and my previous engagement in photography, which had always been kept to the side, came to the forefront. This, in turn, caused the need for me to master particular Photoshop skills, learn In-Design skills and become able to do my own digital printing, which led to hand-coloring images and bringing photography into my mixed media forms. (I also have taught aspects of this, and the computer as a tool has become a natural component in some of my courses.)
Since 2002 I have made four trips to Ireland, two of them specifically related to research and photographing for what became my first scholarly book and the foundation for my second. By 2010 I had accumulated so much material through scouring records in Connecticut, online, through subscriptions, the renting of microfilm, and reading towers of books and articles that it seemed necessary to publish the material in some form. Who else would have been able to or been as driven as I was to gather this foundation of a history that applied to so many people besides my own family? How could I just store it all away, like so much clutter to anyone else’s eyes? The material had to be put together and presented to others, like artwork does. The project needed to resolve and see the light of day.
Some images among the uncountable number that I have made since 2006 seemed to make the leap into existence as photographic art. Some were exhibited. Many illustrated my first book, some of the second, and my blog postings—which became another outgrowth of this activity. Some works made intentionally as art included photographs that I had made specifically for use in the first book. In some cases it felt necessary not to alter historic images except in further enhancing their visibility. In other cases I attempted to create artworks that might appeal to others who didn’t need to know or care about their actual sources, as I usually do when making collages and assemblages. The process may have been a somewhat schizophrenic way of going about the dual attempt to make art and use art in relation to an attempt to write a book. When one is driven, however, there is nothing to do but follow one’s instincts—even when others think you are on an entirely wrong path. Halfway through a project it is impossible not to see it through. Like art, the question continues to nag, when is it finished? In this case it required a second book in which I sought more contributions from others than I did in the first one, most of my own imagery did not appear, and I was not also the graphic designer.
It was with great joy that I traveled to Ireland this recent time, not as a researcher, but as an artist. This time in Ireland I also worked on books, but they were the hand-made kind (something else that I teach). I also began to draw again (which used to be my primary means of working). Still, I could not help but also make almost 4,000 photographic images. As before, there are some photographs in this collection that might conceivably be exhibited as art and others have illustrated my blog posts. The rest wait in digital folders for when their reason and time may arrive.
There are many works in play at the moment, however, life as an artist in residence focused upon the dailiness of exploration and response (somewhat akin to life in graduate school) is quite different from life in the real world. I am eternally grateful for an amazing, soul-nourishing experience and the fact that my time-juggling (and all that needs to get done) problems are those of the first-world. To have such problems is a privilege. That after all these years I have been able to remain an artist to the degree that I have is also a great privilege, as is the ability to have spent this time in Ireland as such.
Since one project, another journey and my life finally feel as if they have come together in the present, I would like to share my most recent postings from my Irish-related blog here. Following are sequential links to bits of my experience from residing for five weeks in a place that has become an indelible part of me. Ireland continued to open herself further through her people and in my own relaxed exploring of her beyond the specifics I formerly searched for like a dog with a bone. For all, everything and everyone I am eternally grateful.
- Ireland, 2016
- Ireland 2016. Images
- Ireland Images.2
- Ireland Images.3
- Ireland Images.4 – The Flaggy Shore
- Ireland Images.5 – Corcomroe Abbey
- Ballyvaughan.3 – The Burren
- Ireland Images.6 – The Flaggy Shore, Again
- Ireland Images.7 – Still Point
- Ireland Images.8 – Dublin, Galway
- Ballyvaughan.4 – Wrapping Up
- Ireland Images.9 – Connemara, Mayo
- Ireland 2016, Last – Ireland Images.10
*T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton, The Four Quartets, I, II
©2016 Janet Maher
All Rights Reserved
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