Mystery: The End To The Means
I wonder what drives someone, myself included, to speak through art. What makes it necessary? It is necessary, to get it out, I mean. I don’t think it’s for anyone, really, but the artist; if there were no one else around I would still do it I’m sure.
I’ve had trouble working lately, I think because, somehow, the answer to this question has become very muddled. What was once an end in itself--illusionism/realism/impressionism--is now a means. The end I’ve now discovered, what I’m ultimately after in my work, has become, what I see as, mystery.
By whatever means or images I am moved to describe it I’m convinced that mystery is my goal. I could call it a feeling; how I feel when I see or imagine a certain scene, there is this overall felt impression that is indefinable and deeper than the things or shapes presented though the overall composition speaks to this feeling. It's comfortable and satisfying, the closer the goal I get. In every painting I try to create this feeling, it's the reason I paint (I think on some level it always has been), even though I cannot define it perfectly.
I wonder, also, how this can be, how can abstract shapes of color say anything about the depths of life. A beautiful flower is just that, beautiful, but I know it can also speak to deeper things by what it is, by the very fact that it is, by how it's presented, and so on.