| Abstract |
In the way that it is easy to forget the canvas that supports a painting, it is easy for me to forget that my body is an animal body. It is similarly easy to forget the contours of my environment. Rooms, cushions, furniture, dirt, plants, asphalt, rocks all recede into the background as I pursue the running checklist that drives my mind. Immersed in an intellectual, analytical environment, my reflex is to conceive of myself as a sort of hum happening above my shoulders. Three years after the first quarantine, I want to pay more attention to the flesh and bone of things. What once felt as certain as stone became so much dust to me. Ideas and institutions that I relied on have become suspect in a way that I did not expect. At this unique juncture, I have been considering what is real, what is not, and how to decide. Where is peace located when most things feel uncertain? What remains? It seems possible to me that the ultimate certainty, the ultimate touchstone, the ultimate peace, may be our bodies. In order to remember the body, it is important to be aware of the environment surrounding it, and to consider their integration. From the very beginning of this investigation I discovered quiet partnerships. In my dog, springtime twigs, leaves, and the detritus of my neighborhood plants I saw a potential way. To me, our domesticated companion animals are one of our best collaborators. Companion animals can be described in terms of ‘use', as a sort of living technology, but I prefer to think of them as; survival partners, forged together with humans in a relationship based in mutual care. They are the most excellent reminders and helpers. They recall to me that I too can communicate without talking. In exploring a less human-centered orientation, I am recording that communication in paintings, searching for my needs as an animal. These artworks are a snapshot of my thought process during this change. In my wandering curiosity, I investigate using the visual metaphor of human-animal hybrids, or ‘manimals'. These chimeric constructions help me to understand myself and to understand my place as a piece of matter. We have the same bones but in different shapes, we are social in different ways, and our similar priorities are evinced by different behavior. Their shape and my shape is a way in for me to explore what is and maybe hint at what could be. I've begun to suspect that I what I really am, is a domesticated animal. This work is a reaction, and the process involves responsive flow. It is about uncertainty, and so the making process involves uncertainty. The fabric involves fixity and consistency, the mark making involves randomness and improvisation. |
