I have often wondered why, given how much I love my garden, I don’t do art inspired by it. I guess because I don’t need to. I have the real garden, and that is sufficient. Gardening moves me into another place, another state of mind, as does making art, but the two don’t intersect. Very little of my art has ever come from my day-to-day life, rather it comes from a place inside myself--where I would much rather spend my day-to-day life, if only I could discover how to merge the two. For me, that place contains mystery, humor, beauty, longing, and a magic lantern of images lovely, nostalgic, and sometimes bizarre. They flit across my mind, often so quickly I wonder if I’ll ever capture them on paper. In an instant the whole totality of the work, its flavor, colors, mood, vividly appears. The challenge of all art making is to fashion a piece that catches the viewer in a similar way and compels them to share the artist’s internal experience.
One evening last week while trolling through iTunes, I played some music (Manu Chao) that I listened to a lot when I was making collages for 3SIXTY5 last year, and I was amazed at how much the music awakened echoes of that most creative 7 months of my life. I had to turn it off and won’t listen again until I’m ready to make the time to work. But it’s tantalizing to know that this trigger exists to help me recreate that magical state of mind where creativity rules.
For now, back to the garden...
