Where is the ‘I’? The previous post was an attempt to avoid responsibility for what was a miserly response to the Bus. I guess that the ‘I’ wrote it. The trinity of ‘It’ ‘He’ and ‘I’ creates spaces and cracks in which to hide; the slowing down of his motivation gains momentum. ‘I’ am drawing. ‘He’ is wondering where it is leading. ‘It’ remains a dog in a manger. Working with three other artists recently (and somewhat uncharacteristically) on a proposal, the first time he had done such a thing, It came up with the notion of ‘a cradling of loss’ in relation to his bird work. He decided to put it into the discussion to see what response arose. Simultaneously with the birth of the notion (?) phrase (?) idea (?) it pricked at his sense of vulnerability. ‘ What nonsense this is. Unintended consequences? You draw and paint images of dead birds.’ From the same thoughts came the notion that ‘dead bird’ is no more than an inadequate label. Whatever constituted the bird is no more. (He keeps tripping over Monty Python) What remains is loss. This female Bullfinch was given to him by a fellow artist, retrieved from her cat, the disorganisation of its feathers testament to its suffering. He felt for it, even as ‘It’ underscored the superficiality of his feelings. There seemed the possibility of disrespect in the use of the remains. He tried to invest the act of drawing with a proper dignity by sanding the drawing surface with the pain of grazed skin. But the paper resisted and would not be hurt. The surface became gentler as the cotton was scuffed. Perhaps, like skin, healing commenced simultaneously with its damage.
