I was learning about mental illness, being bipolar in particular, and creativity. It was interesting to note that some of the renowned artists were afflicted with varying degrees of mental illness. When I read about song writers, singers, entertainers dying from drug overdose or getting into trouble for dabbling with illicit drugs, my first reaction is the "chicken and egg" debate. Which one comes first. Is there any possibility that drugs actually free a person's constraint and enhance creativity? Perhaps altered perceptions lead us to fresh plots? Or are drugs just a way of life because it is fashionable. The state I am residing in has legitimized and legalized psilocybin, for medical use of course; as they put it. Can "visions" be a valuable adjunct to creativity too? Where is the line between a freak and a genius. I know, these are harsh terms.
In a way I believe those of us who paint are inherently dissatisfied with reality. I mean why else would we paint a version that is different from the true, real object. And then there are those of us who do abstract work. Are we under the influence of colors and forms and lines and patterns, and not necessarily an identifiable and addressable object? How do elephant trunk and chimpanzee hands produce works of art? How does our gestalt work? Can drugs or our mental state make a difference?
Before I get myself into too much trouble, I do want to stress that I am not suggesting mental illness is the same as drug use. The only overlap perhaps is that somehow brain chemicals are involved, be it endogenous or exogenous. It is a delicate task, just like mixing and obtaining a perfect color or hue, we need to find an auspicious balance of norepi, dopamine and serotonin. There are so many feedback loops involved when it concerns our body and mind and we are understanding just a little more each day, certainly more than the days of lobotomy and electric shock therapy. When your car engine is not getting the correct inputs, it can surge, sputter or simply quit on you. And just like the internal combustion engine, some aren't happy unless they are run at 9,000 rpm, and some hum along merrily at just 100. We are all different.
The names like Robert Schumann and Vincent van Gogh often come up as artists who have endured mental health problems. I am not a great fan of Schumann's music but because of what I've learned about the person I have decided to look at his works with less myopia. Ultimately I am still not quite a fan, but I do find his Piano Quartet very endearing, specially the Andante movement.
If we don't know about the lives of these great artists, we might think that everything is roses with them. One might even say "I would do anything to be just like them," if one is an aspiring artist. Atlas, only if we knew. Are we really willing to pay that price knowing what they had endured?
I've heard a saying which basically states "We might find a Shangri-la when we look across a window, but once we stand right next to the window, what we see is life itself, with all its musings."
隔窗而望是世間桃源 臨窗而立是歲月人生
Not everything is as what it seems, and the grass is not necessarily greener on the other side.
I have found the inspiration for my next painting. A person standing by a window, gazing out.
I have in mind a high contrast, black and white brush painting. I believe a stark black and white painting allows for more freedom of participation from the audience and evokes more empathy. I also want to position my window strategically such that the proportion or the geometry will be pleasing to look at and helps to frame the protagonist. I want my actor to ponder and see what is outside the window.
Life!
Just like paring food with wine, I am pairing my painting with the third movement ( Andante ) from Schumann's Piano Quartet, my newfound love. I just love those long phrasings and conversations between the instruments, even from the viola, I might add. I love it more than his Piano Quintet; such intimacy. Listening to that music helps to give me context when I am doing this painting.
I am going to set the tone of the painting by writing the words of the above mentioned saying on the walls in the painting. These words would be graffiti-like if you will, crass and territorial, but they serve as a dogma for my thought process. I have a mental image of these writings obscured by the darkness inside the room eventually, either completely or partially, but metaphorically at least. I haven't decided yet. Just as they defaced the wall, they are in turn consumed by darkness. They shall resurface when light returns. It is a cycle, as in life. I'll cross the bridge when I get there. For now they shall help to keep the mood playful. This could be a dark painting, literally and figuratively. I don't want to be too depressed; but pensive, for sure.
Years ago I did a painting "Going Home" and in that painting I tried to describe backlit tablecloth and sunlight filtering through drinking glasses. I am trying to study my "light" again with this painting. Also, I am going to be using a female figure as my person of interest.
I am making corrections to the contrast to make her features more vivid. More enigmatic perhaps.
I am also dolling up the graffiti a bit by giving the words a shadow. In the end these words might not be visible anymore but for now it is fun to play with the effects. As graffiti should.
