In my art lately, there is the prevailing theme of the heart as a machine, still organic but disconnected and used with caution. I am amused on some level by my own art-therapy, certainly when I contrast it to that of the artists I have devoted a semester of study to, those being Constantin Brancusi and Eva Hesse, both of whom I strongly identify with in different areas of their lives. Hesse's art as life, Brancusi's genius and devotion to achieving the perfection of form.
One of my pieces of digital art has found a level of deep resonance with me because it reflects the heart in the physical sense as calculable - a diagram of it without connection to any other body part nestles perfectly against images of drafted mechanical objects. The heart is not so different. It is merely a pump. And yet to this machinery we offer so much symbolism that it drowns.
In my art this year, I have cut out the heart, redefining its context in our culture and our minds. I am about to formulate a sculpture that will be the most monumental in work of all my works thus far. I will cast a simplified heart in metal and cover it with impermanent materials to relate it back to flesh. Yet mine continues to beat inside where it belongs, even with another of my organs having left an ugly scar in its absence.
I struggle with matters of the heart, physically since my weight makes its work more difficult, mentally since I am ever at war between the mind and emotion, and spiritually because I strive in vain to lift the heaviness and banish it with words. One day I hope to retrieve my heart from the mechanical and allow it to be soft again, but for now I hold it above me on a platter (like a waiter in an unkind and ignorant crowd) and thus I can only feel the weight of it without seeing it clearly.
I am tired of artspeak, and yet I continue, for this idea is maturing. I wonder if my art will always set such a pace where I run to keep up with it. My ideas are burgeoning with a depth that I desire to convey, and when images, words, and songs all fail me I am left with the puzzle of communicating myself, which I cannot do adequately.
I haven't posted any art for awhile, and though this piece is still in process, I felt the need to put it with the text here for your understanding.