Every object in the universe attracts every other object. So it is said. Some stand still in their attraction while others come running. Some stand in muck, bound up in barbed wire and ropes, while others never seem to touch ground, with ears in the wind and mouth open to catch flies.
Is the attraction secretly the same for all, even as we sport our differences? Does the muck stander attract by standing his ground so that some feel “there must be something to it. . .” He steadfastly resists the pull of the other and so sinks daily more deeply into the shit.
And what of the frisky fellow, always on the move, attracted here by a butterfly, there by a ball (or a politician). His world is both lighter and darker, a thousand watts of frenzy, burning and sometimes burning out.
All this, flowing through a woodland stream peppered with pebbles and bounded by boulders, eased by eddies and filtered by mosses and leaves. I stand toes in, pulled in all directions, yet sometimes strangely balanced.
Our latest eclipse, the Venus one, brought to mind the objects attract idea. It’s not that hard to feel the pull of the “other”. Much harder to imagine that we each offer up a kind of invisible attraction of our own.
I always do the art without thinking about all these weighty matters. I do it for play, for uncorking the randomness of the universe and then allowing myself the silliness of putting it together in another way. Put it all in a hat, shake it up, then spill it out in a new order. Venus is not doubt at the heart of it this time.
I’ll be offering another free demo at Rileystreet Santa Rosa on July 8, Art Journal Fun with Image Transfers (as in the piece above).
Maree from the Inks and Gesso demo last month in San Rafael sent me this picture.