the undone nature of art.
The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.
Michelangelo
I love the seeming law of order where, once you get an inkling of an idea that soaks into your consciousness, that idea then manifests itself everywhere, in all variety of unexpected places.
A connection that had not been made before is now blatantly obvious to the mind once illumined. This enlightenment (one of the elements of true, living art that I mentioned in my previous article) is not something that can be forced, but once it has presented itself to the willing mind, through the weaving together of threads that are all around, it can be channeled.
The act of channeling is important, and is part of the idea that has pulled on that thread in my mind and spread those sinuous threads through all variety of my daily experiences, weaving them together into a tapestry which (although unfinished) awes me with its beauty.
“Although unfinished”. This modifier-clause holds an important truth that has greatly influenced my artistic journey.
I have always wondered why I am so drawn to the initial sketches that prepare for a master painting, or a watercolor where you can see the under-drawing peeking through, or the messy notebook with crossed-out lines to prepare for a poetic verse. These things have always intrigued me more than the finished work, and I have struggled to put the reason for this into words. But the notion of “although unfinished”, which echos the idea of Michelangelo quoted above, has helped me to construct what, I hope, is a cohesive ethos. This can be summarized in the element of “undone”.
To connect this notion of undone to the idea of channeling, I am going to tell a story.
Years ago, before the age of super-technology, in a dusty, sun-bleached little town, there lived a man. This man had wide-ranging talents and he could have done anything (well, anything that existed at the time in the dusty little town, or anything that he could make happen with his own mind and hands). He tried lots of things, from banking to brewing, but nothing stuck. There was a consistent stirring at the back of his mind that he could not ignore, which was to build an inn.
Now, this man of wide-ranging talents wasn’t sure why this idea was so persistent. What need had this dusty little town of an inn? Visitors were infrequent, as the sun’s scorching rays made the streets inhospitable and the distance from the nearest civic centers made the journey impractical.
But the idea persisted. So, the man of wide-ranging talents channeled the idea and began, brick by brick, to lay the foundations of an inn for the little town. He labored in the light of the sun, moving from bricks to plaster to paint. Eventually, the inn was constructed and ready to welcome guests.
As the years went by, the man of wide-ranging talents used the inn as a purposeful medium. The visitors he welcomed through the doors found comfort from the harsh environment, and it became known as a place where people from all over came to rest and to share their stories. The bricks which had been laid took in the stories and, although they could not repeat them, conveyed a sense of the richness to the visitors housed within the walls.
The wide-ranging talents of this man found a purpose in this place. At the end of his life, the building he had lovingly built ceased to be an inn. But years later, the bricks still hold the stories, and the structure now houses a new place where people still come to rest and to share their stories, finding comfort from the harsh environment.
The hands of time have played their role in altering the previous look of the structure, peeling back the paint and the plaster in many places, revealing the bricks that were laid one-by-one, by the man of wide-ranging talents. The stories that were absorbed by the bricks in the dusty little town still hold the richness of the idea that was channeled and the stories that were told, called to memory by the words “Market Inn” still visible on the old walls.
The “undone-ness” of art gives a glimpse into the story. It shows the steps, the questioning, the hand of one who has channeled an idea and is struggling forward, upward, toward beauty.
The story is unfinished. The thread that was pulled in the mind of one man is woven as part of a tapestry that is continually being created. The artist’s role is rich. Art, tangible or no, is displaying an image, an icon, of this ongoing nature. It hints at the story that is continually written, and the role that each individual thread has within with the one cosmic tapestry.
Art is undone, because the story is still being written.