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Pearls from artists* # 404

"Broken," soft pastel on sandpaper, 38" x 58" image, 50" x 70" framed

“Broken,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38″ x 58″ image, 50″ x 70″ framed

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Before we can even think of ecological rescue, global disarmament, or economic reform, we must find a way back to what science fiction writers call our homeworld.  The term encompasses more than the biosphere; it also includes our homes, our places of work, our  communities, families, friends, and lovers.  It includes our technologies and tools, the physical body, the sensible soul, and the unconscious psyche.  We need a faith to restore our capacity to feel, to affect and be affected with the same passionate intensity as our forebears, whose powers of feeling astound us so in the records and art of the past.  The death of affect, to borrow a phrase from JG Ballard, is the true catastrophe of our spectral age, our spiritual Hiroshima.  It makes questions such as whether life’s riddles are answered at the Vatican, in Tibet, or by the Large Hadron Collider utterly meaningless, since it removes the ground we need to pose such questions in the first place.  Neither religion nor science can give us back the ground.  Only the imagination can.  Only art can mend the rupture of the soul and the world, the body and the earth.       

J.F. Martel in Reclaiming Art in the Age of Artifice:  A Treatise, Critique, and Call to Action

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 66

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

I craved honesty, yet found dishonesty in myself.  Why commit to art?  For self-realization, or for itself?  It seemed indulgent to add to the glut unless one offered illumination.

Often I’d sit and try to draw, but all the manic activity in the streets, coupled with the Vietnam War, made my efforts seem meaningless.  I could not identify with political movements.  In trying to join them I felt overwhelmed by yet another form of bureaucracy.  I wondered if anything I did mattered.

Robert [Mapplethorpe] had little patience with these introspective bouts of mine.  He never seemed to question his artistic drives, and by his example, I understood that what matters is the work:  the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, the weave of color and graphite scrawled upon the sheet that magnifies His motion.  To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution.  From this state of mind comes a light, life-charged.

Patti Smith in Just Kids

Comments are welcome! 

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