A Reflection on How We Experience Art

This week I’ve been working to release a group of new art pieces (which are available now as you’re reading this). I’ve been working on these pieces – a mix of watercolor and block print – for the past six weeks or so. It has been so incredible to be able to give myself the time to work and rework these prints, allowing them to take their time coming into their full and final form. Some of the pieces started out completely different from the shape that they eventually took, whereas others came to me so quickly, a swift sketch and a carving in a single sitting and they were complete.  

With this group of work I feel a lot more connection. Each one has layers of emotion or stories, or lots and lots of both. And it’s interesting how my own perception of a piece shifts and changes as I shift and change even in imperceptible bits each day. 

“Northbound”, for example, holds meaning that shifts for me almost hourly. It holds longing and anticipation, but also fear and confusion. The title itself is relative to where you stand. In physical terms (on the east coast looking to sea) the boat heads north. But she also heads north beyond just physical boundaries. And perhaps some day I will change the title to “Southbound”. I’m allowed to do that, because I’m the artist. 

What I cannot do, however, is tell you what should be felt by this piece – or any piece. For starters, how can I impose my meaning onto you when that “meaning” changes on a dime. But beyond that, you will never see the same piece of art as I do. You will never see the same piece of art as anyone who lays their eyes on it. And that is part of the beauty of art. 

The past few weeks I’ve been writing and thinking a lot about attention. Paying attention to what you pay attention to, deciding where you direct your attention, being more mindful with your attention. This has bled a lot into the way I’ve been thinking about art – my own and the art all around me. 

The way many of us live in our day to day lives leave us pretty out of touch with ourselves, and with our attention. I’ve certainly felt out of touch with myself. And perhaps part of this is because I don’t allow myself to slow down and ask myself about what I’m experiencing. Which is what I wrote about last week when I said I wanted to appreciate the birds. I also said I wanted “to appreciate all of the beauty around me”. And with that I think about art. 

I’ve experienced art that has caused me to feel without thinking about it. A song, a painting, a storytelling event. Emotion comes up unconsciously. But how often do I reflect on these emotions and ask myself questions about them. How often do I actually intentionally notice how something makes me feel? And beyond that – if something doesn’t trigger an immediate emotion, why not stop and allow yourself to spend time with it. Perhaps there’s something there that needs time in order to come out. 

An overexposed screenshot taken from a video I took to show the pressing process – I had forgotten I was recording as I thought about the piece.

In a way I think we’ve been taught just to really focus on our preference. “I like it” or “I don’t like it”. And there’s not anything inherently wrong about recognizing our preference for art – there is art I love and there is art that I don’t care for. But imagine going to an art museum and solely concentrating on how each piece makes you feel. Allowing yourself time to uncover that emotion. To acknowledge it and spend a little time with it. 

When I say that the beauty in art is that no two people will experience a piece in the same way this is why. Because each of us brings our own histories, our own longings and anticipations. We bring our own fears and confusion. We bring our own emotion.

So when you see a piece like “Northbound” – what do you bring?

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4 thoughts on “A Reflection on How We Experience Art”

  1. I’d say the strongest emotion I have when looking at “Northbound” is reflective. I think this is brought on by the boat’s reflection in the water, and the water also reflecting upon itself. Also knowing the feeling of being out there with a lot of time on my hands sailing, or in the winter. These times of calm reflection allows for unstructured thoughts and feelings which produces creativity and solutions to problems that I previously had difficulty with.

    Thanks for another great post.
    Diddy

  2. Perspective counts for everything, I try to adapt this to most aspects of my life but as a novice with art; I hardly take the time to dive deep into it to see how it plays with my emotions. I am usually brought to somewhere else. This post inspires me to look at art in a “deeper” way other than just saying “that looks cool”

  3. Your art and your commentary together are developing into a self sustaining force that will carry you places.

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