Out of the Box - A Progression of Transformation

The image Out of the Box is currently on display (through mid-May) as part of an Alumni Art Show at United Theological Seminary of the Twin Cities entitled "Thresholds of Transformation" - the writing below explains some of the motivation and meaning explored in this cutout.

Since my graduation from the Theology and Arts program at United Theological Seminary in the spring of 2005 I have continued to explore the intersections of art and theology through the creation of works of art both written and visual. Hand cut paper cutouts is a medium that I have returned to in several seasons of art making during that time. I enjoy the process of cutouts because I usually sketch out the image, then reverse it and draw it on the back of the paper that it will be cut out of and finally I cut the piece out, flip it over and mount it on a backing. By the end of this process I literally know the image backwards and forwards – yet I am still constantly surprised by the outcome when I step back to take a look at the finished product. Sometimes there are shapes that pop out visually in the cutout form that were not the focus of the initial composition. Likewise, the relationships between lines and negative spaces can take on new meaning in a sharp-edged cutout versus a blurry-lined sketch.

As I have worked on cutouts for the past several years I have always kept the compositions confined within an outer box – a frame of sorts that contains the composition. The box started as a utilitarian way to hold the pieces together – a binder of sorts that provided a structure for each element of the image to attach to and a way to define each line within a preset context. Recently, I have started to explore the idea of literally pushing the boundaries of that border to have lines that break the border and extend beyond the box. Initially this exploration was all about shrinking the box but still having it remain as part of the structure of the piece. Since then I have begun to realize that maybe the box itself is limiting the potential of the compositions. Perhaps the cutouts need to be free of the boundaries that the box has provided and open to the opportunity to be active, free-form compositions.

My approach to composition is currently on a threshold of transformation. I can see great potential in opening myself and my art up to this transformation and yet I still retain a warm spot in my heart for a composition cocooned within a box. This, to me, is a sign of healthy transformation – it is a transformation that respects its origins while being willing to step into the risky realm of the new. Echoes of past elements can be seen in the new creations, while the things learned through the openness to transformation have the potential to be introduced into revivals of the traditional form. Likewise, the lessons learned through this creative process can be applied to living a life that is aware of opportunities for growth and challenge that come with openness to transformation. I am just beginning to dive into the pool of borderless compositions and the cutout made for this show explores the beginning of that progression of transformation from the boxed composition at the top of the piece, to the space of re-construction in the in-between and finally pulls itself together in a small borderless composition at the bottom.

The box has been opened – may this transformation open even more.

Image - Out of the Box

Paper Cutout

Found Installation Art

While on a walk around a lake the other evening I came across a sight that delighted me. It was a small channel on the side of the lake with a shallow pool of water in it. In that channel I saw, spaced out in an aesthetically pleasing manner, a series of square cinder block bricks. I immediately stopped to admire the scene and realized that the sight was awaking in me a response similar to the viewing of intriguing art.

I have a hunch that this site was not set up as an intentional piece of installation/environmental art, but it translated as art to me in my encounter with it. I love moments like this - when art takes on a life of its own and manifests itself without conscious intention. It is like running into an old acquaintance in an unexpected context - the experience can be jarring and yet full of joy.

In November of 2010 I wrote a post entitled Found Collages on how I like to be on the lookout for unexpected and pleasing compositions found in the world around me. I reflected then on how having my eyes open for found collages is a method of keeping me engaged in constantly looking at the world around me in new ways and seeing things in light of their surrounding context. This experience, of finding art in the placement of cinder blocks, was a wonderful treat springing from the openness to see and acknowledge art in unexpected places.

Be on the lookout my friends, there is joy to be found in the most unlikely of moments.

Images - Found Installation Art

Documentation of Found Art

Purple Martins for Paul

My dear Uncle Paul passed away this month after a several year journey with cancer. One celebrated attribute of Paul was his passion for birds - and in specific his love and care for Purple Martins. I myself am not well versed in the language of birding and I will admit that I am not certain I would even be able to distinguish a purple martin flying by from any other swallow. I do, however, appreciate birds very much and I keep my eyes open in the hopes of spotting something special even if I do not really know what I am seeing. I take comfort in this practice because I know the joy that birding has brought to the lives of my uncle and cousin and the countless others who have been inspired by their passion for winged beings.

In light of this, it seemed very natural to spend some time reflecting on Paul's life through the creation of bird inspired cutouts. Below you will find five images roughly inspired by Purple Martins. While they may not, in actuality, capture the essence of the Purple Martin, they do represent a moment in time of reflection and honor for a beloved uncle and his beloved bird.

Purple Martin Cutouts

Paper Cutouts

With Caution

The past week has been a challenging one for me. It has been a week full of emotional turbulence rooted in the grand experience of being utterly human. What does that mean? It means I am living in the aftermath of having behaved unfortunately in a situation and causing pain to someone I dearly love in reaction to being hurt myself. It means I am staring humanity in the face as I grapple with the reality of death as a part of life as I grieve and come to acceptance of the impending loss of a different loved one. It means I am trying to graciously accept the change being dealt to me in my life while simultaneously grasping for a handle on what has been in my world so that the future and all of it's constant newness does not seem totally foreign. It means that I have over and over again been reminded of the imperfections of being a human and am being challenged to move forward in my life in the light of those imperfections instead of struggling to live in spite of them.

To live in the light of human imperfection is to accept the good and the bad, the broken and the whole, life and death and to celebrate them all with equal abandon as expressions of what it means to live life in the fullness of humanity. I have written about the beauty of imperfections in art - and how imperfections add a quality of uniqueness to the work which opens up layers of depth and interest. Yet to translate that lesson in terms of my own humanity takes an extra spoonful of sugar to swallow. It means knowing and accepting that my actions will sometimes cause pain in others and in myself and that I too will be hurt by the expressions of others. It also means that in the healing of those moments of hurt new insights and stronger bonds can be formed leading to deeper and more meaningful relationships.

My partner, while walking with me through the challenges of this week, suggested we wrap ourselves up in caution tape - and my dear in-laws in an act of delightful support and love actually sent us a roll in the mail this week. I am taking the suggestion to heart and while I may not physically wrap myself up in the caution tape - I think it is a powerful reminder of living in the light of imperfection. It is a reminder to myself to move, speak and act with caution and awareness when things are less than perfect. It is an acknowledgement that I have the potential to hurt others and will do what I can to prevent intentional pain - but being human means that I will make mistakes. The caution tape is also a flag of notification to others of my precarious state and a request to treat me gently as I work to be gentle too.