It was getting towards the end of the semester. I knew I
would be soon packing up my classroom and transferring to a new school at the
end of this year’s teaching contract. The idea of the abundance of boxes and
crates consuming my apartment once again overwhelmed me. My husband was getting
ready to leave for his deployment and we spent the remainder of his days at
home preparing last minute things while trying to squeeze in time together. I
looked forward to my time away this summer on my travels and studies, but felt
the crunch of time approaching quickly. I read when I can, submitted my
graduate work when needed, took care of my body with the necessary exercise,
sleep and healthy eating, but was finding it difficult to appreciate the small
things in life that I advocate so often for.
I’m currently working on an eco art
photography series which intends to
entice the viewer to take some time to look more closely at small delicate
moments in nature and time in daily life, pique their curiosities of the
natural world, and provide wonder to natural happenings that tend to be
overlooked or taken for granted in our busy technologically infused schedules. I
have realized through the development of this series that the process of my art
making is both mentally and emotionally stimulating and to explore this
component in detail would provide me more insight on my work. Through the next
stages of my research, I investigated the process of my picture taking and
discussed its qualities and elements that continue to influence and shape my
art making decisions.
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| 2121. 20 x 30 inches. Photography. 2014. |
After some encouragement, I found a small sliver of time to sneak away to capture a couple of natural happenings. Although the initial process felt slightly forced, I managed to embrace the escape and discover new visual moments of excitement and wonder. It felt like a guided meditation. A time to self-reflect through a camera lens. A time to crop a mysterious moment of light and/or reflections in an effort to provoke wonderment in someone else once shared. I found myself thinking how slowing down to appreciate the smallest of things helps me connect with myself. These small compositions of light, shapes, unidentifiable movements, and color transitions I felt were representing a part of the many things that go unnoticed.
While taking these photos I imagined
my body calm, collected, steadying my breathe, holding a pose, and closing my
finger tip on my capture button like the slight tap of my eyelids touching. I am
reminded of my yoga practice and the postures my body often finds itself in
during these captivating moments. I remember an excerpt I read when I studied
mediation. In Wherever You Go There You Are, Jon Kabat-Zinn explains how it is
important to be awake, aware and conscious to be able to observe and be
satisfied with what we are seeing or feeling in that moment. He describes that
“The best way to capture moments is to pay attention” (Kabat-Zinn, 2005, p.
17). I stand, correct my body’s unusual position,
release tension off of my muscles, joints, blood flow returns to those silenced
places, and I quietly, informally, almost unrecognizably, thank the subject of
my new abstracted image that is presented on my screen. I continue on and
consider new objects to delight my lense. Everything has seemed to slow down
and the smallest details are becoming areas of excitement for my eyes. I
ponder, wonder, and contemplate over the next composition I will construct.
Questions are asked but I know they will sometimes be unanswered, hypothetical,
and rhetorical. All the while, I embrace the stillness that I have entered.
Thirty minutes have passed and I feel less anxious than I did before. I relate it almost to a power nap standing up; yet, these moments spent with my surroundings provided me ample time to explore and reconnect with my natural environment. A respite for a tired soul. While describing the importance for children to connect with nature, Richard Louv, the author of the Last Child in the Woods, also emphasizes the importance for adults not to forget how beneficial time spent exploring the outdoors. He explains time in this sense: “Time in nature is not leisure time; it’s an essential investment in our children’s health (and also, by the way, in our own)” (Louv, 2005, p. 120). He also compares controlled outdoor play to self-directed exploration, stating that the latter is more important in nurturing creativity and wonder since “It takes time – loose, unstructured dreamtime – to experience nature in a meaningful way” (Louv, 2005, p. 117). I could, indeed, compare these thirty minutes to a euphoric, dreamlike state.
It is quite apparent to me that my brief exploration with nature was therapeutic as it very easily restored my mental and emotional state. Allan Kaprow, eco artist and author of Essays of the Blurring of Art and Life, similarly describes a therapeutic art called “lifelike art.” Through a very lengthy discussion in his essay “The Real Experiment,” Kaprow explains how lifelike art represents art that is portrayed in action, experience, performing (and not necessarily in a theatre), interaction, participating with an environment, daily movements recognized and embraced, and anything that is inseparable from real life (Kaprow, 1993, pp. 204-206). However, in the article “Allan Kaprow: Art as Life,” this philosophy is easily summed up as the “reconsideration of artwork as a physical object” (Ozler, 2008). While the therapeutic element is an underlying tone that is represented throughout these activities, I have found similar qualities between this thought process and the process of my photography series. “The purpose of likelike art was [is] therapeutic: to reintegrate the piecemeal reality we take for granted. Not just intellectually, but directly, as experience – in this moment, in this house, at this kitchen sink…Lifelike art can be, for therapy and meditation, a bridge into daily affairs. It is even possible that some lifelike art could become a discipline of healing and meditation as well” (Kaprow, 1993, pp. 206, 218). I am able to compare parallel similarities to Kaprow’s “Performing a River” and my capturing of natural happenings. During Kaprow’s environmental interaction, he enticed participants to savor the guardianship of transporting a wet rock alongside of a river; while atypical considerations of humidity, distance and how the rock was placed in one’s hand were at play (Weintraub, 2012, pp. 87-92). Both activities, my picture taking and his performance, elicit a quiet recognition of a small event and moment taking place that would often go unnoticed and untold, disappearing in the fast development of a day’s time, while embracing the emotional connection to procedural steps.
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| Quiet wakening. 20 x 30 inches. Photography. 2014. |
During my picture taking process, my future audience, their reaction and response, also guides my decisions. I look forward to showing the images to others and to see what feedback arises thereafter. Without this sharing, without their few minutes of contemplation over the subject matter, without eliciting a desire in my viewer to discover their own natural happenings, without provoking this change in their behavior and perspective, I feel my art would not satisfy my needs. I strive for the viewer to feel an intrinsic desire to discover these intimate details that the natural environment could provide. This reaction is what would complete my art. In this artistic process, I have identified that the viewer is just as important to me as the art making. The two go together, complement and encapsulate my practice. I found that nearly 80 years ago John Dewey – a philosopher, psychologist and educational reformer – had deeply rationalized the relationship between the art making and audience in his book Art as Experience. The following excerpt illustrates this: “The doing or making is artistic when the perceived result is of such a nature that its qualities as perceived have controlled the question of the production. The act of producing that is directed by intent to produce something that is enjoyed in the immediate experience of perceiving has qualities that a spontaneous or uncontrolled activity does not have. The artist embodies in himself the attitude of the perceiver while he works” (Dewey, 1934, p. 50).
Slowing down and reflecting on my
process reminded me of what I intend to capture through my photography. Not
only capturing a moment and its details, but also connecting with an internal
awareness; as it is through this awareness that I can acutely give attention to
something so small as a repeating pattern of a light gradation. I believe that
it is by means of this self-guided meditation that I am able to embrace the
process as the art form. While I value my imagery as tools to engage and elicit
a reaction in the viewer, I also perceive this physical component as much as my
art form as well. Without being aware of this essential component to my art
decisions, I would only merely be capturing beautiful imagery, however my intentions
ultimately lie in provoking change in the perspective of my audience.
References:
Dewey,
J. (1934). Art as Experience. New
York: Penguin Group.
Kabat-Zinn,
J. (1994). Wherever you go there you are
(10th ed.). New York: Hyperion.
Kaprow,
A. (1993). Essays on the blurring of art
and life. Los Angeles: University of California Press.
Louv,
R. (2005). Last child in the woods: Saving
our children from nature-deficit disorder. New York: Algonguin Books of
Chapel Hill.
Ozler,
L. (2008, March 14). Allan Kaprow: Art as
life. Retrieved from http://www.dexigner.com/news/14013
Weintraub,
L. (2012). To life!: Eco art in pursuit
of a sustainable planet. Los Angeles: University of California Press.



