m a t e r i a l i t y

Through this year, I think I have had a hard time diving into the materiality because I was really in my head. Little did I recognize, that diving into the material would be the most potent medicine to get out of my head and into my body.  

“Follow the material”... these words haven’t left my mind and I don’t think they ever will. It applies to so much more than the artistic practice. To follow the material is to follow the body and the intuition physically stored within it. It is to be in relationship between conduit and the tools in which magic is created. To follow the material is to drop the resistance and frustration in my practice, and it is to invite ease and flow in: a mirror for the way I wish to invite Goddess into my days. 

I started out this year so in my head that I almost forgot about the material entirely... even though I have always been so in love with the material of paint itself. The way it makes that squishy sound, the way it slides across the slick surface, and the surrender that is required in applying to paint to surface. The awakening of the senses is like none other than it is in painting.  I just love to push pigment.

What I had not realized until now, is the surface becomes material itself in my practice. The space surrounding is the material. The body is the material. Shadow and light are the material. The energy I bring into the space is the material. 

Creating this installation, Heart Cave no. 7, made all of this so clear and it is helping to start bring the fragmented pieces of my practice together. Painting on sheets of paper so much bigger than I am reminded me of the importance of 1) scale in embodiment, and 2) in respecting the materiality of my body and the paper in the form of patience. The material speaks if the practitioner is quiet and focused enough to listen. It speaks in echoes of shoulder aches and paper buckling, begging for resting time in the body and drying time for the paper in a strangely synchronized moment. It speaks in the form of paper becoming heavy from layers and layers of paint: weight is language. It speaks as I cut intuitively formed lines of wandering, the cuts being smooth when I do not rush, and getting rough when I try to hurry. Again, the body’s intelligence and the material are in relationship with one another. In my practice, this relationship is sacred and deserves the utmost respect. Even writing these words on paper was honoring the material, unlike now when I type them on this plastic keyboard onto a sterile, lit-up screen.  (This is part of why I am including a shorter writing piece in a hand-written format in the presentation space).

This work is a jumping-off point to explore the connection between the materiality and the sacred within my practice and my life. Because I had to be so immersed in the material, my mind was not able to wander anywhere beyond the present paint stroke, the current cutting of line within paper. The pings of my intuition were louder than they ever had been in the creative process. I had a “plan” when I started this piece, but because I was so present, I was able to be fluid to the changes and moments of straying from the plan that were necessary for the success of the work. 

Throughout this theory workshop, I have been researching quite a few artists. One that Martijn recommended me that has really stood out is Thomas Demand, and his piece Grotto from 2006. It is not just the literal connection I feel between the subject matter of our works, but the way he truly honors the material and the scale in which he was working. To create this stunning cave replica, he had to use 52 tons of cardboard cut up into 90,000 pieces! This is an obvious demonstration of ultimate respect for the material, and an understanding for the sheer amount of it required to honor the project. This is also an honoring of the material of time... again, to be in sacred relationship with the material is to have patience with it and the body’s ability to meet its needs.  

To care for the material is to care for myself, and is to also believe in my ability to alchemize. To take one thing and to turn it into something else is ritual in itself. The material is everything, and I am honored to be in relationship with it.