Secret of my soul

18/11/2011 at 12:33 am · Filed under Uncategorized and tagged: art, awareness, bali, blog, confusion, identity, India, Indonesia, Ireland, painting, quote, self, travel, writing

I love to travel alone. I love the rush of being on the go, the spaces “inbetween” two existences; two worlds- and the magical experience of movement. Migration is distinctly part of the human experience, its in our blood to move to where we are most able to survive, or more so– thrive. I seemingly find myself moving from place to place in search of identities and understanding of self and others, and in all that an itch for greater connectivity to the world, myself, and that which I do not yet understand.

This quest for identity seems to be one that follows me everywhere. This question of “identity” is one I am discussing in relation to one of my paintings, which will be on display this weekend at Mela. Mela is a production by Brandeis’ South Asian Students Association in which they perform and display artistic interpretations of South Asian culture- this year, on the theme of identity. I’m currently on my way to New York to visit an old friend and explore some art with studio friends, and  can’t be at the show. I’m sad that I can’t see the incredible performances and displays of a culture so deeply a part of my being, but I am honored to have my painting displayed for the show.

They asked me to write a bit about the piece, and as I struggled to create it, I struggle to discuss it. When I was asked to display the piece, I was also asked if it was related at all to their theme of identity. Without question, I responded “Of course.” Without a doubt it’s an identity piece. Everything I do is an identity piece. Every canvas is a mirror.

It brought me back to this quote I used in my blog upon returning from India, one that I feel is incredibly relevant to not only my attempt to discuss my painting, but to the fact that my show is soon and I’m struggling with what I want to create for it.

It speaks to the reality that I’m still processing Ireland and Bali and can’t seem to find a way for them to more actively come into my work. To the strange notion that any art can be about anything OTHER than one’s identity…

“Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not the sitter. The sitter is merely an accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter, who, on the coulored canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my soul” – Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

“All art is biographical” we’ve all heard the cliche. Of course what we make is a bit of who we are and our human condition. Each piece of work, be it writing, dance, lyrics, painting- is a snapshot into our human experience.

On this bus in the deep darkness of the autumn night I’m unsure how far I am from where I came from and how close I am to where I’m going. It’s a strange thing, movement, identity, self- in every act of of our day we’re going somewhere, we’re moving toward a goal, seeking a notch on the checklist; yet we’re often in the dark about how close we are to those big goals. For me, it’s this desire for greater understanding of that big thing we call ‘identity,’ which I seek in my art. How close am I to finding it, what will be on the wall in less than three weeks at the show?

All this motion, when do we stand still to look at it? We must become more aware.

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