Art work created using organic materials, an immersive collaboration with nature.

During the seminar on Friday we were asked to write about our work and just allow whatever came out onto the paper happen. I found this a very good exercise and it made me realise the importance of writing about what I am experiencing in the environments in which I am working whilst I am there. Writing in this way also helped my writing to be more natural and it seemed to flow really well. I took it home and edited it and here it is…

“We are each at a point in our own transformation. There is a gentle acuity of observation and development of the ethical sense which can allow a new  state of consciousness to open – a state which can change our vision of the universe; and in this state of openness, a transformation to a higher plane becomes possible.”

‘Ritual Art of India’, Ajit Mookerjee, Page 16

I began my M.A in illustration at Cardiff School of Art and Design in September 2017 and have continued to explore collaborations with natural forces through my research and practical work. I am beginning to work on an organically developing narrative, a book in film form which unfolds naturally and my role as artist and illustrator is to act as instinctively and intuitively as possible. My aim is not to impose synthetic materials on the environments I am working in anymore, but to work with organic, natural found materials; either working on the spot or by taking materials from the environment, working with them and taking them back. I am using film as well as still images and my research and practical work are beginning to work together well. I have been looking at Indian ritual art, Phenomenology, ideas around perception and the Art of Richard Long and Andy Goldsworthy among others.

I write while I am in the environments I work in. I write about how I am feeling and what I sense around me. My writing can be poetic, philosophical and/or stream of consciousness. I am fascinated by the magic of nature and its unpredictability.  I enjoy working with it, fully immersing my senses into whichever environment I am in and working intuitively and in response to it and what I am experiencing around me. I am in a relationship with everything that is around me. I quiet my mind and and sense it all through my eyes, ears, touch, smell, taste and what I intuit. It makes me feel light and I work lightly.

All the other beings around me are also sensing in their own unique way. The silent Lichen, the noisy birds, the majestic trees. I try to tune in to them, I don’t know for sure how, but I listen and feel when I should start making my work. I work intuitively in response to all I am experiencing and work phenomenologically:

“Magic, then, in its perhaps most primordial sense, is the experience of existing in a world made up of multiple intelligences, the intuition that every form one perceives- from the swallow swooping overhead to the fly on a blade of grass, and indeed the blade of grass itself- is an experiencing form, an entity with its own predilectations and sensations, albeit sensations that are very different from our own”

‘The Spell of the Sensuous, Perception and Language in a more than Human World’, David Abram, page 9-10.

The wind is a particular favourite of mine for collaboration as well as the sea. However I am beginning to explore more and find the value in the more subtle changes in movement, colour, shape etc… in gentler phenomena that are around us. There is a deep, subtle consciousness – a powerful and gentle intelligence that can be felt and which we do not necessarily notice all the time. I leave various pieces of my art in the environments I work in and the forces at play there change it and therefore a collaboration occurs. A narrative inevitably comes about. Perhaps it is not necessarily the kind of narrative we would expect or even understand fully. It will potentially be in the language of nature.

Is there humour in all of nature? Is a sense of humour inherent in all things? I have found generally that it is the natural way to play and have often found myself laughing in the woods or watching the films I have made. – I ask are they really doing that? Or is this my interpretation based on my own experience and how I experience the world? For example I pinned some leaves to a tree trunk and filmed them. They were flapping about a bit in the wind and a few flew off and escaped. When I played the film back and really listened to the sounds I could hear birds singing. It seemed as though it was the leaves who were tweeting as they moved. If I had never experienced a bird or a leaf before I could have been forgiven for believing that leaves tweet. Is nature consciously playful? Or is that just my own interpretation due to my own personal experience as a human being?

Does a lichen laugh? Does a leaf cry? Do trees get sad?

Possibly not in the same way that we do, but they could have something similar to our laughter, tears or sadness. Is there a consciousness that is aware that it is collaborating with me? There have been moments when I am working in collaboration with the forces of nature – particularly the sea – when I have felt that I am working in response to a conscious being that is present there with me. I do not get this feeling all the time, but when it happens the feeling is very strong. There is something playing, all my collaborations with nature are playful.

Working and creating art work primarily with natural, found materials.

I have now moved away from using any synthetic materials and I am creating art work from natural materials found in the natural environments in which I am working. I either create work on the spot and film and photograph it interacting with the forces of nature at play, or I have been taking natural materials home with me and creating work at home and in the studio to then take back out into the natural environment for filming and photographing. I am in the process of creating the following piece of work. It is made from reed grass and fern found together on top of the Garth mountain near where I live. I am finding working in the environment so close to where I live is creating strong connections to that environment. So the act of placement of my art in the environment is creating deeper connections. I would like to see if others experience this too and perhaps take a group to the areas where I am working to create work there and then and record their experience and how it made them feel about the environment they were working in. Does working intuitively create deeper connections, or does simply using that other sense and being aware of using it enhance connections to the world around us via the other senses?

I will be taking this piece of work out into the woods and back up onto the mountain to film and photograph. I am going to film it at different times of day too. With the changing light and record visually and verbally what I am feeling and sensing. I am also quite enchanted by the shadows that this piece of work creates and lighting the art work up at night would be very interesting to see. I can imagine this piece of work will move around a lot in the wind too so the potential for movement of the object as well as the shadows could be really beautiful. I’m very excited about this one!

Trip to Museum in Cardiff – ‘Women in Focus’ photography exhibition.

I went to the museum in Cardiff and was particularly interested in the work of Helen Sear –

Catherine Yass –

and found the stereographs created by Thereza Mary Llewelyn interesting –

This visit has prompted me to research and look at Stereographs, lightboxes and ways that film and photography can be edited in order to convey different meanings and messages.

Some poetry from the past year…

I am currently writing in response to the environments I am working in rather than writing poetry or prose when I am not immersed in those environments. I currently write while I am immersed in the environment I am working in as a way to linguistically convey the meaning and the experience of my senses, mind, body and intuition etc.. within those environments. This writing once combined with the films and images produced creates enhanced meaning and communication through the layers of metaphors that inevitably come about, often with unexpected results. I am still writing poetry though and here are examples of poems written over the past year and a half.

Sister

Stand tall sister,
The broken bracken
Beneath your feet.

New growth will come,
Burnt red turns to green
And back again.

See how the land
Uncurls before you,
Like the contents
Of Pandora’s jar,
Released
Unstoppable
Pulsing
With
Love.

Strip my voice of it’s oil,
It’s sap will rise back up.

No roar
No wimper,

I speak the truth only
And say to you,

We are wounded
Wounded
Wounded.

(written June 2018)

Mother knows

Mother grew me in her body
Soft warm and nourishing.
Felt first movements of my body
like a silken brush against snow
Inside nurturing, worrying
Longing to meet me.

Mother birthed me
After long hot
Red labour
Face like hot coals
Until finally
My voice
Like exploding
Volcano of
Cherished noise
Was heard.

Mother listens
To me
My breath
Is it deep or shallow?
Mother knows
What I need
Before I do,
My mother
Hears
Me.

As I grow
My mother
Gives me discipline.

I am told no
When I am bad

I am held close
When I am good

Even when I am
Just me

My
Mother
Loves.

Mother watches me sprout
Into young woman
Strong, gentle
Kind, fierce.

If my voice is silenced
She knows

If my cry is weak
If my breath is small
If I curl away
From the world
From the great mother
She knows.

She scolds the one
Who did dry up
My throat

Who makes me feel small
My mother knows me
My mother knows before I do.

As I grow, the world
The great replenisher
The immense mother of us all
Invites me to swim in her oceans
To shelter under
Dappled
Light
Of
Trees.

To feel her breeze
To absorb her warmth.

Our mother feels
First movement of our bodies
With her air
Feels the patter of our tiny
Feet against her soil skin
Like children climbing
Into her arms.

Our mother knows when
We need discipline
Our mother knows when
To hold us close.

My mother gets tired
Giving so much

When we take too much
Even the moon
And dreams
Are sometimes not enough
To restore her

So she rests
Let her rest
Let our mother rest.

(written June 2018 – final draft)

For all the Wild Children

It is spoken in the leaves,
In the wind
flicking your hair
like grasses
trickling in the breezes.
Sacred books not written
on ephemeral paper,
but eternally held in
the
human
consciousness;
so that in times of trouble
like these,
the memories are imprinted.

Seek these memories now
search in the woods, by the sea,
in your own heart and mind.
Mysteries, wildly
and playfully revealed.
Trust in the wild moor,
the feral creatures,
there is truth in their freedom.
Be a wolf, a bear, a vole
an eagle, a salmon.
Seek like a snake,
be wise
be gentle
as the saying goes…
like the dove.

Discover countless forests and their secrets,
rest under stars of unspeakable beauty,
sail over the untamed sea,
Textures, worlds and vast spaces not yet met,
will greet your mind and heart.

Your consciousness is free,
be released.

Lou Thomas (written November 7th 2018)