I am water. But a fiery one. I am undivided, but I am only what I discover of myself. I recreate routinely my oblivious person which I am perpetually trying to dodge. I create, or to be more exact: I put name on things I discover. But sometimes I have to burn the bridges that lure at me from the past. Sometimes I burn and destroy what I have discovered to make room in my self, to get rid of a light that blinds, to erase a name from my memory. Sometimes I am consumed by my own fire; fire teased too hard by the breath of my own aspiration, by the vacuum of my freedom. Don't let the children free, they will devour the world, and all will ended burnt to the ground. Pace the way for them, hold their hands, but do not let go before they have touched fire and claim their watery nature.
I have attempted to burn many things in my life. To make room for a freer future. To get rid of my demons. To celebrate my infancy. For the innocent pleasure to look at fire. For the guilty pleasure of breaking apart stuff. I have burnt so many paintings of mine. So many images that I had given a name to, that I had created.
It felt sensual, and agonising; like pumped by the electricity phased during a funeral or the separation of two partner beings. It felt overly warm, and can I still feel it on my cheeks and my torso. Do I regret it? Yes, I do. Would I do it again? Yes, I would.
During my third year of art study at GMIT Galway, I spend my time dismantling the object of fine-art painting. I wanted to reduce image to a pure vision of matter and accentuate the fact that fine-art paintings are physical objects subject to the effects of time and decay. I also denounced the fact that images nowadays are loosing of their physicality to become pure electronic impulses in a digitalised world thus becoming more and more images of themselves.
People too are becoming more and more images of themselves, because of social media and over population. And so we tend to forget, for we try to cover the fact up, that people also are physical beings subject to time and decay.
These were my thoughts when I built, rather than painted, this pieces and prepared my second solo show Head against the wall.
I would like to show you now some photographs and footages of the making of those pieces, followed by shots made at the gallery during the exhibition that took place in Galway during Spring 2012.
The making and showing of this work definitely felt as an accomplishment. I had bridged the mystery which stands between image and object. I had physically worked and made decisions to resolve questions that triggered me on a deep level, and managed to find answers good enough for me at the time. My intentions with this project were fulfilled.
But as life took its toll on me, along with my unease being in this art school, my old illusory demons continuing to pressure me from inside, my struggles to be in harmony with all the social aspects of life, all that pushed me to an edge, the edge of myself. If it wasn't for my partner, I would have foundered like a derelict vessel torned by a sea of disbelief. I had to shade a layer, something was to come off me. The pressure was intense.
It happened at the time that we had to move to another house, this one being taken over by the bank of our landlord. It was time to pack and pick what was coming with us or not. This collection of painting was too voluminous to possibly fit in our new place (an even smaller cottage in Connemara). So my temper being what it was at the time, I having this existential break-down, all fostered this need for a ritual to let it all go: I decided to burn all of those painting, and so I did.
I have no idea what you, the reader, can make out of that story. I hope this illustrates how obstinate and confident one has to be to reach to the edge of one's self and come back, if not stronger, at least alive and lighter.
With love , from the other side of your screen, on another edge of time, to you, here, now.
If you made it that far through this post, congratulation, and thank you! Your support is everything. And please, don't forget to leave a comment, I am eager to hear your reactions on the topic; also sharing on Facebook or anywhere you like always helps.
Have a good and commanding week ahead and see you next Sunday for... another episode of Trail of colour! Peace.