Moments
of letting go
The moment of truth - now the last stroke must have been made, since any further tweaking will but falsify the result. Sometimes it's obvious and a lighthearted parting and other times a strenuous grappling with one's own ego and loss of all possible eventualities.
People have the habit of locking aspects of their perception into clearly defined categories. For a long time I assigned every nuance of pink and pink to "typical femininity" and soon I had a very critical relationship with a large part of the color spectrum - mostly because the understanding of "femininity", that was conveyed to me, stirred a deep reluctancy in me ... Not to mention the alleged frivolity I associated with painting flowers.
Over the years my understanding of the role of the sexes has changed a lot, but at the sight of these peonies I was tempted to recognize "masculinity" in the "mightiness" of the flowerbuds and the "strength" of the intesity of colour.
It is a struggle to free oneself from the unreflective association patterns in the form of precise observation and abstraction in the hope of being able to grasp beauty beyond gender.
There are moments when it is not possible to take a picture - and even if you had a camera on hand, it would hardly be able to capture the uniqueness of the moment experienced.
So I was just on the way on my scooter when the mountain in front of me freed itself from the lingering mist and stood out from the flowing clouds - days later the moment still echoed in my mind until I finally found the opportunity to capture it on canvas.
An impression of the Niesen on Lake Thun.
It's a foggy day - the world seems to float in gray. My hands feel the earth as I look up and discover a snail in the greens.
Practically weightless, it seems to climb vertically up the tendrils. Its movements like a dance in harmony with its surroundings. Carefully palpated and yet moving forward without hesitation.
Humans may perceive as much of their universe as the snail does of theirs, but they lack the serenity to deal with their personal reality.
«Art is never finished, only abandoned.»
This website uses cookies. Here you can choose which cookies you want to accept and change your selection at any time. If you click on 'Agree', you agree to the use of cookies.
Datenschutz-Richtlinien