relax into the art of not knowing ... revel in the joy of wondering mind

 

miriam louisa simons   ::  about my work

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poinciana pod
Australia

 

 



earthworks series
India

I'm often asked to explain the way my work happens. This is tricky because there are no maps or signposts to follow in the creative playground.

However, I can attempt to describe the way the playground has set itself up in my life - while emphasizing that it will be different for each and every artisan.


Most artists speak about their work in terms of their relationship with their subject matter and what they wish to convey to their audience via their art object or product.
The tools and processes they use are often selected for their ability to convey that narrative.

My own, largely untutored approach is different.
I don't have things to say. I simply have things to make.
The subject matter of my work consists of four elements:
 - the tools and processes of my particular craft
 - the materials at hand
 - the field of my experience and knowledge
 - my innate curiosity


These elements come together in unplanned, unexpected ways as I play, and in their ex-pression I meet my object. If my part in the birthing of that expression is free and uncontaminated (by notions of what others might approve of, for example) the work sings, and its audience - which includes myself - absorbs something which I could never have contrived to create.

A floating central square or rectangular shape often appears in my work. This format - and also that of the vertical scroll - reflects my love of Japanese art and my studies in Japan. I was profoundly affected by the sparse, elegant harmonies of Japanese design, as well as by the subtlety of tonal and textural interplay with light.


Being objective about my work is also tricky because when creating is happening I seem to disappear. This has always been a mystery for me. Looking back, I notice several stages of fascination or inquiry as I explored this mystery.

In the beginning, as a child, there was simply the delight and joy of making things. Pure play. Innocent wonder. Then, during the years of my education, the criteria invented by those who knew what 'art' was all about crowded in and I attempted to make my 'things' fit those criteria. I began to explore the intellectual arena called aesthetics. And the mystery faded, quietly, almost without notice.

For over twenty years I made my living creating wearable art. The magic of creativity was there, but it was increasingly elusive and erratic. Since its presence brought a profound and inexpressible sense of wonder and rightness, a sense of utter blessing which never occurred elsewhere in my experience, I began to stalk it. As I did so, it led me away from concerns with financial success, with exhibiting, and even with peer acceptance. It took me into the selva oscura, into exile.

The creative state had become my teacher, my guru. It took me to places all over the world where I would be involved in creative education, where I would meet others whose over-riding passion was the mystery of creation. It kept me on the road for decades practicing, teaching, inquiring. It ensured I'd never become locked into making a certain type of art product; if I fell into habit or repetition it simply disappeared. It was replaced by tedium.

Eventually the via creativa led me back to square one. I had spent decades forgetting that I knew everything I needed to know about creating (just play!) and gathering up an arsenal of concepts and conclusions about creativity. Now I had to forget everything I had learned.

It wasn't so difficult. Play is the key to beginner's mind, and humans are hard-wired for play. (Although the wires can become rusty and tangled sometimes!) Beginner's mind is mind that is free to wonder. No conclusions, no prescriptions, not even any intentions. Just space, in which creativity may, or may not, play.

For further personal reflections on my work please see
via creativa