Sunday 25 November 2012

My Art for the Silent Auction



I was asked by the amazing and enthusiastic team organising this fund raising event, to create some work of art for the silent auction. As normal, with our philosophy of never saying “no”, I agreed, “No problem!”

The timing of the question did not allow time for a ceramic sculpture to be created, so I was thinking about doing a charcoal sketch, or on the outside, possibly a painting.

Also, it was my desire to create something with meaning. Something I could possibly include in my art show, which, to put it bluntly, tells the story of my coping methods in dealing with the loss of our daughter to murder.

So, I needed inspiration, something to launch my brain into an idea, an idea that would be sustainable. Hopefully more than a “one shot wonder” kind of work. I began very inartistically or shall I say, very left brain. I began visiting retail locations that were selling art, mass produced works to the public. Not to replicate something but to see what the mass market has discovered sells, shall we say. It was interesting, but unsatisfying. I yearned for something more. I continued driving, but now without a destination wondering where to go next. Suddenly, I realised I was travelling in the neighbourhood of an Indigo bookstore. I remembered they had an interesting art section, one display being open art books of all kinds spread out on a table for customers to simply page through. I had been there before and turned my vehicle in that direction.


The display was there just as I remembered. It was a joy to just relax and let the works of art wash over me. Suddenly, I ran across a series of four paintings, called “The Four Seasons” by C.Y. Twombly. It wasn’t so much the works but the fact he’d used words, words I could not read or decipher but they were words. I looked for the description and discovered he was quoting bits of poetry relating to the season he was depicting. For example, for the painting on spring it was selections of poetry on the subject of spring. The reason I could not read it was because it was in Italian!

I had a pen but no paper. Finding a magazine order card someone had dropped on the floor I began writing ideas. David had written poems, poetry, that turned into songs. They were inspired by the various events and experiences in his whole life. What if I, instead of seasons, I represented the various events in a painting with bits of the corresponding poetry (Psalms) written in words on the painting? Wow! My heart and mind were both pounding! A sales clerk asked if I’d received their coupon...I heard nothing. I looked at her, and pretended to listen. She could have been speaking Italian, I had not the foggiest idea what she was talking about. But, I had been taught that the loving thing is to “pretend” to listen and understand. She would never understand my present mental state of excitement, I’m sure she misread my large excited glistening eyes as total agreement, understanding and who knows what else. When she finally gestured by her body language that she wanted me to take one, I did so with great relief and she, thankfully left me to continue in my own new world of excitement and expectation.

It wasn’t until I’d written down some ideas all over that small card that I was able to slowly make my way out of the art department and the store. This card is laying beside me here as I write.

Below, is my first rough of an idea. It has to do with a cave in a desert location, where David was hiding from King Saul and his 3000 hired men. It was during this time that many discontented, angry, frustrated tough guys began joining him in this hideout. It was difficult for out of these he molded his future leaders for when he himself became king. Below are some bits of Psalms 57, a song he wrote expressing the various emotions he felt during that time of his life.

And now, I need to chose my colour pallet and get painting.

These are the words you see on the sketch.

“Your are my refuge, I call upon you...My heart is steadfast...Let your glory shine.”
Psalm 57



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