Sunday, February 23, 2014

Still* Life

It's been a while since I've posted anything.  Things are picking up and the world seems to be moving faster and faster.  I think that that is one of the reasons this next project was so appealing.  It's just objects - everything is still and simple.  Also, it's pretty easy to create a composition when you can just throw some things on your bed and call it a day.  Case in point:

Another use for pears while they ripen

Although this format was initially chosen due to its simplicity, I think that still lifes are very interesting from a Buddhist perspective.  They highlight one of the fundamentally un-Buddhist aspects of drawing - every image is an attempt to capture an impermanent moment in a permanent way.  While drawing, I had to be very careful not to upset my bedsheets, because if I did the composition would change.  I also ate some of the pears after the picture was finished, because they were finally ripe and pears are delicious.  I could never replicate this display no matter how hard I might try.  The image is the only record of a scene that was lost as soon as I moved to put my sketchbook away.

And yet, not even the drawing is permanent.  The graphite and white charcoal smudge easily, the paper can rip or simply disintegrate with time. In a similar vein, I too will one day die and deteriorate, civilization will fall, humans will go extinct, and the earth will eventually be consumed by the sun.  Please excuse me while I go stave off an existential crisis.

 In the meantime, enjoy a picture of a cup

If you take a step back from the philosophical ledge, impermanence isn't actually that terrifying.  It's something we experience every day without panic or ceremony.  Shoes wear out in the toes, fruit rots before we get around to eating it, ivy covers abandoned buildings and slowly pulls them apart.  If change occurs slowly enough, it is easy to accept.  The difficult part is to confront the inherent changeability of every aspect of our lives, especially the things that seem the most permanent and stable.

For instance, the mug above strikes me as an incredibly durable object.  It has a comfortingly solid weight, shiny glaze that covers the exterior, and is essentially made of stone.  If I were to set it on a table and stare at it for a year, it would remain the same except for a layer of dust.  However, at any moment I could knock it off the table and it would shatter on the floor.  Even the most stable object has the potential to fall apart, whether you look at it from a Buddhist or an entropic perspective.

For this composition I ran around BC&T looking for trash to draw. I also found a stone bird

So what do we do with this rather bleak outlook?  For me, it speaks to another mark of existence - interconnectedness.  We are all linked because we are all falling apart.  Although a still life can cling to the idea of depicting an unchanging world, it can also highlight the transient nature of objects.  I hope that this is something that I can convey in my still lifes.

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