Back to nature....
The Sympathy of Wolves
My sympathy (not pity, I should prefer to liken it to an affinity) for the 'wilderness' and all integral to it can be a painful experience at times. Nature itself creates and destroys; all that is beautiful, all that is wild has, at the same time, a definite aspect of terror. We are all aware of this, if not consciously. But it is the senseless, even willful destruction of this precious, terrifying wilderness by human hands that causes me a great deal of discomfort (is this because of our supposed 'awareness', our responsibility to know better?). And these concerns are becoming more and more apparent to me through my work. I consider the fate of wolves, tigers, trees....the fate of the earth beneath my feet, the air that I breathe, the inhabitants of endangered forests - and I feel impotent.
Sometimes I think that my images, some of them, the more obviously connected-to-the-wilderness pictures are a sort of feeble attempt at a quiet, dignified natural revolution. My own revolution; a savagely emotional affair. My girls and their curiously unpopulated landscapes are something of a testament to this. They are at one with the rhythms of the earth. And so are the occasional creatures that accompany them. They are the visual manifestations of my adoration and respect for all that we have lost, but they are also a symbol of beauty and hope - powerful and resolute, they are beyond the machinations of man(kind).
And it is this very beyondness that connects them so perfectly to the realm of fairytales, folktales, and myth. We all go hand in hand.
Pepper and Sky
Pepper, a horse I used to know. But I cannot remember him.
Once upon a time there was amnesia....and large sections of my life are still missing. Sometimes they come back, with an almost supernatural force (both the good and the not so good) creating a curious combination of sensations. Wonder, trepidation, amusement, disbelief. Amnesia is the strangest of things. I am not so sure that I should call it an 'affliction', for I am sure that it is a protective mechanism (in some cases). But for the most part, it is the most extraordinary thing, at its worst the most isolate thing, the most curious, terrifying, surreal thing that I have ever had the (mis)fortune to endure.
It's a pretty mixed bag.
Memories, some, return at intervals. Haphazard intervals at that. When they return they are like the delicate music of starlight on water or like an earthquake that shatters the heart. And it follows me around, the amnesia; it renews itself every six or eight years, so that many fragments of my 'present past' are also invariably whisked off into the great unknown.... whether lying dormant for a time, or lost for eternity, I am still too young to know.
Oddly, amnesia does not hinder my quality of life. There was a time when it did, when I sought too many answers, when falling down rabbit holes had become my stock in trade.....but thankfully, I am an adaptable little minx, and I have grown comfortably happy with my lot.
As for the details, the cause of my amnesia, this is rather personal, as I hope you will appreciate, but I will go so far as to say that it began in early childhood. The result of one god almighty shock. The above image depicts a journey. A journey forward - which (quite ironically) will often lead us backwards in time. But don't get me started on 'time', because I don't quite believe in it, in much the same way that some people don't believe in ghosts.
A musical affair. One of many.
Part Little Red Riding Hood, part something else entirely. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, but it is of a similar ilk to the Sympathy of Wolves.
Before i go and eat, I would like to share my love for this delightfully dark yet beautiful book - The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly. I am sure that many of you will have already read the book (I am always late, unfashionably so), but still......a fascinating read, for me, on so many levels; his rendering of certain emotional peculiarities and his perfectly dark yet heartwarming take on the traditional fairytale greatly appeals to me.
And take care.