Narrations of indeterminacy
”What chaos and rhythm have in common is the in-between- between two milieus, rhythm-chaos or the chaosmos. ” (Deleuze and Guattari, 1987:313)
The awareness of the ephemeral and fleetingness of nature can be perceived underneath the visible surface of an artwork. As I view a drawing, the nature of it can be viewed through both an outer and inner openness to its mysterious depths. Just as one creates an artwork, it evolves through an intertwined string of webs, interdependent and trans-connected, like a rhizome. It spreads out through the moment of creation and develops into an illuminating surface of both invisible and visible passages showing me both the ephemeral and continuity of being.
“Life has always seemed to me like a plant that lives on its rhizome. Its true life is invisible, hidden in the rhizome. The part that appears above ground lasts only a single summer. Then it withers away—an ephemeral apparition. When we think of the unending growth and decay of life and civilizations, we cannot escape the impression of absolute nullity. Yet I have never lost a sense of something that lives and endures underneath the eternal flux. What we see is the blossom, which passes. The rhizome remains.” (Carl Jung,1963: 4)
Repairing a spider’s web is like repairing the impermenant. For as I create, the untranslatable and the indeterminacy of the passing creative moment always eludes any form of translation or determinacy, remaining therefore endlessly in its own flux. I can try to paint over or erase my colors or lines, but the mysterious world underneath the surface always remains. The rhizome never ends.
“It is not down in any map; true places never are." –Moby Dick
I draw, similarly to the way I move physically, becoming both an invisible and visible player. I jump; forward, backward, in-between, and around as I draw intuitively letting go of structures. My pencil and I are one. Moving with the other players. Only seeing clearly when I become a part of my movement that I don’t see, yet sensing and feeling the transmittable energy. It is the energy that attracts me and the game is not about winning. Sensing and feeling the beauty and compassion of the other players within and without the self, that transmits energy in an endless flux. No longer experiencing resistance but experiencing the overwhelming energy that reflects beauty and illumination.
The drawing illuminates through its own presence, showing that the encounter of the beyond, the in-between and the sublime is not about looking for the beautiful, or winning, but being born from and with the understanding of the essence of beauty. The stubborn quest of merely winning dissolves into the horizon as it passes into hidden revelations of a liminal, in-between space that is non-locatable.
The creative act of drawing shows me the pureness and fragility of a line revealing not the see-able line, or the dotted points of a map, but the valuable other light that can only be seen through our senses, illuminating us with the pure essence of a transmittable energy. A constant flow; like a rhizome; eternal and endless. It is here, never pinned down to a map of borders that I can hear and see, and where the drawing becomes a live.
“Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time. Write yourself. Your body must be heard.” –H. Cixous