Art as Transformative Magic

You may say I’m a dreamer but I’m not the only one…

Some time ago, I had a conversation with an aunt who is very dear to me. For quite some time I had felt that I didn’t, in my estimation, quite fit with my immediate family. My dad and brother were both logical, mathematically-minded individuals, and my mom, while crafty in the artistic sense, was ever the pragmatist, flawlessly practical in all things. By contrast, I was, and remain to this day, a somewhat naïve idealist. Unlike my family, I tend to see the world through rose-tinted glasses. Not as it necessarily is, but rather, as it could be. It is a tendency that emerged in me early in my youth, and though I am now in my thirties, it is a tendency that has yet to dissipate.

In many respects, this was why I admired my aunt as much as I did and continue to do. She is an artist, not unlike myself, and while her preferred medium is paint, I’ve come to realize that we are quite similar in a lot of ways. Artists don’t merely depict the world as it is – they depict the world as they wish it to be seen. When I lamented to my aunt that I was quite unlike my parents and my only sibling, a fact which often made me feel isolated and lonely, she reminded me that there was nothing wrong with being a dreamer. The world needs its dreamers. It thrives on dreams.

Of course, one needs to approach this claim with a bit of caution. It would be inaccurate to state that all artists depict the world as pain-free and fanciful. Indeed, many artists (and I use this as a catch-all term to include novelists, poets, painters, photographers, dancers etc.) will often create art which is intended to evoke pain, or some other primordial response. But that is the very beauty of art. It represents as we intend. However we see the world, it is that vision that we wish to share with you. For many, the vision is rarely static, though it does, at times, appear to be mired in stasis. Art is created from the depths of experience. We tend to reflect our own interactions with time, place, and people. Those who reflect pain are those who have tended to endure it, while others tend to radiate joy and abundance because it is that which is in their hearts.

“You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
~ John Lennon

In my own attempts at “making art”, I have been somewhat divided which is, in part, a nod to my name “athinkerdivided”. I try to look for the beauty in all things; the patterns that repeat as Fibonacci’s magic in a snail’s shell, the textures of scorched earth, the iridescence of a hummingbird.  To this point, this is all I have tried to capture through my photographs – eternal beauty. Some may argue that it is easier to see the beauty in a bird than in the raping of land. And perhaps that is true. But if we can make something incredibly beautiful out of something so ugly, imagine what else we are capable of. So says the dreamer, yet again.

Having said that, my academic side is increasingly aware that the world is not all light, hope, and beauty. My interest in conservation photography often wars with me because, while it is certainly wonderful to depict unfettered landscapes devoid of people and unmarred by the ravages of human hands, I question the extent to which such images engender change. A more authentic artist would create things of beauty while simultaneously acknowledging the fragility of life, hope, and wonder.

And so I am left stymied. Is it better to see the world as we wish it to be or see the world for what it actually is?  Perhaps darkness as the precursor to transformation is beautiful in itself.

Tabula rasa.