It’s nearly summer and here in the lower Hudson Valley where I work there is definitely a shift in energy as I personally start to shed some of the physical and emotional layers of the last year. The pandemic remains far from over worldwide and globally we are very much in the “during time” rather than the “after time” yet I’m personally learning how to slowly reintroduce and reimagine some of the old ways we used to connect. Even if it looks different I sense a fresh, rejuvenating spirit that recalls the energy of life at the onset of the new season.
Pablo Neruda said that “to feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.”
A few months ago I was researching Neruda (as one does) for my new series of paintings. I remembered that beautiful line I had read and I needed to know more about it. I discovered the background story to the quote and was struck by its beauty and relevance to the current time.
When Neruda was a child he had a chance encounter with another boy his age. While playing in his yard, he peered through a small hole in a fence and when he pulled his head back, a tiny hand appeared. Curiosity got the best of him and he looked again. This time the boy had gone, but he left a small offering: a small, slightly worn stuffed sheep. He was so moved by the encounter that he went back to his house to fetch a treasure to leave as well. He left the boy a small, but open and fragrant pinecone.
He never saw the boy again, but as BrainPickings wrote, “that boyhood encounter, with the simplicity of its symbolism, impressed upon him a lifelong learning — the second he grasped that faded-wool lamb he grasped a deep truth about the longing for mutuality that impels us to make art.”
Neruda said, “To feel the intimacy of brothers is a marvelous thing in life. To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life. But to feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, from those unknown to us, who are watching over our sleep and solitude, over our dangers and our weaknesses — that is something still greater and more beautiful because it widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things. That exchange brought home to me for the first time a precious idea: that all of humanity is somehow together..."
“All of humanity is somehow together...”
Isn’t that just amazing? This feeling of all being together rings truer now, more than ever as the world continues to barrel through this relentless beast of a pandemic.
When I began my body of work titled, “Nine” last year, it initially reflected how I was feeling as an individual. As the months went on, the work started to reflect the collective, global mood of us all. My new collection which I’ll be sharing soon, continues to explore themes of self-reflection, the human condition, and identity. I’m using my materials, specifically thick layers of oil paint and oil pastel, as an active participant in the paintings that explore a yearning to connect with each other after living in an extended period of isolation. Like Neruda, my longing for mutuality and connection with others during this incredibly trying time impelled me to create art in a style that deviated so much from what I had done before. And for that I am thankful.
