Confessions of an Explorer, Part 5: Mystery Appears

Something happened in my art studio recently.

I had been working on a large circular panel, laying out with thread a grid of squares and then painting over that grid with layers of color.  Other than the intentional nature of the grid as a starting point I had no firm idea of where the piece was to go.  As is often the case, I was simply content to let the process take me where it wanted.  Unfortunately the sneaky fella (can we speak of an artwork as a fella?) took a wrong turn and before I caught on we had hit a dead end in the form of a pool of quicksand.  A little discouraged, I decided it was necessary to retrace my steps and get onto firm footing  I spray painted a rich blue color over the entire circular surface, laying the paint on heavy to assure that I would end up with a solid blue color field as my new starting point.  It happened to be late in the afternoon and, realizing the thickness of the wet paint would take quite awhile to dry, I lay the piece on a work table and packed it in for the day.  As I headed out the door I caught a last glimpse of the shiny wet blue circle, hoping with a sigh that the freshness of a new day would indicate a different direction for me to pursue.

When I returned to my studio the next morning I was in for more than a big surprise.  Here's in image of what I found had happened to my blue circle in the dead of the night - in my empty and locked art studio:

 

I was flabbergasted!  Look at these details:

 

 

 

I kid you not, I had no part in this transformation.  I was dumbfounded by the sheer beauty of it, by the absolute coherence that is so evident.  A strange feeling of otherness came over me, the sensation that some alien presence had shaped the paint.  Even today it looks to me like a symbol language, an alphabet with a distinct yet mysterious message which speaks not to the rational mind, but to something deeper, something almost instinctual, something untranslatable, ineffable, yet profoundly moving.

I immediately realized this artwork was finished.  Nothing more for me to do here; it was perfect (which in my book is good enough!).   In fact, one of the most perfect artworks I've had a hand in; yet my part was simply to set up the grid on the circular panel, lay in as much blue paint as I dare apply, and blithely walk out the door.  I had not the slightest inkling that some entity, some spirit, or at least some beyond possible stroke of luck would take over and create a masterpiece.  For my part I was home dreaming of strange dogs following me around as I searched anxiously for where I was supposed to be, which I'd forgotten because the car had spun off the road over a cliff, hurdling at a dizzying speed down to the waiting river below, only to slow down and finally hover inches above the raging waters, which allowed me to leap out of the car into a crowded holiday party on shore where no one could give me directions to my destination because I had forgotten where I was going and WHY ARE THOSE DAMN DOGS FOLLOWING ME EVERYWHERE???!!!

Well, it was a strange dream, but that's what was occupying me as faeries were working their magic in my studio. 

Of course, we all know in our modern, sophisticated, rational minds that there is no such thing as faeries, or Santa Claus, or the Easter bunny.  Ask anyone with a cell phone if they've videoed a faerie, and if they say yes demand to see it. This whole thing was just a natural process - paint resisting paint aided by the winter coolness in my studio which caused a very slow dry time.  So I set out to duplicate the effect, identifying the sheen of the paint, the density of the added pigment, the coolness of the environment.  Making some small panels to experiment on, I tried one combination, then another, then another...and got nothing.  Persevering, I tried different brands of the paint medium, different sheens,  different densities of pigment...and got nothing.  This went on for two weeks, when finally I got just the slightest hint of the effect, but that would be the best I could do.  It was getting frustrating and I was baffled as to why the solution was eluding me.

Then it occurred to me that I was approaching this conundrum from a completely wrong perspective.  It wasn't a matter of identifying causal factors, like solving a chemistry problem.  There would be no solution for me at the end of a physics equation.  The real truth was that I needed to figure out how to communicate with the faeries; and to do that, I might have to translate the message in the artwork.

To be continued...