Art blogging isn’t coming easily these days. It’s not a matter of writer’s block, if anything it’s the opposite. However, the things I ponder upon are far from what most people care to think about . . . esoteric things like pure mathematics, a conundrum in the measurement of equilateral triangles, and how that relates to circles . . . concepts like that.

You may find it odd, but for me these topics are ultimately inseparable from the issue of a whole other dimension to life. The invisible . . . the imaginary, yet so very real . . . capable of magic? In my experience – and not just with art –  I have to answer “Yes.” And I know I’m not alone.

Carl Jung described an artist as being one who carries and shapes the unconscious, psychic life of mankind. His views on the subconscious and how that can relate to art is eerily familiar. He makes it sound so bleak though. Perhaps that is because he seemed so serious about it all . . . his collective thoughts on the human psyche. While it does involve a lot of solitude, for me it has been an amazing journey, full of surprises, too many to describe. And at times it does feel timeless, another pet subject of mine . . . so much to think about.

What I see that is common in my art ties into the issues above. I can and do tie it together with one simple statement, “There are no lines in nature.”

If there is anything special in any of my art, I truly believe it has something to do with that deceptively simple observation.

It’s funny how that ties in to something that happened over thirty years ago. I was getting my first degree (in psychology) and took a course in religion as one of my electives. I had just finished a paper on Inuit culture, especially the spiritual aspects. Somehow, within this paper I had drawn a pair of parallel lines . . . even used a ruler! While photocopying this paper I must have accidentally enlarged it. When I looked at these lines they were no longer “straight”; they had all kinds of bumps or waves – little curves – and that’s when it first occurred to me that perhaps parallel lines don’t really exist. Can that be true? If so, then some day I would have to prove it.

About fifteen years ago I began thinking about this once more, and a few years later the proof came, while examining circles and playing with Pi. I use the term “proof” loosely, as ultimately there are no numbers involved . . . only logic, pictures and perhaps a little imagination? More self-teaching? That’s such a fuzzy term!

Rather than writing about, I much prefer discussing my art, with those who sense something special about it, whether that is with a collector, a fan, or a curator. I’ve found those discussions so much more enriching than simply writing about my art, be it a blog post or the description of a painting. It really is a joy and a treat of sorts, the person-to-person dialogue.

As for all that math, I wonder where we’d all be now if we had evolved with seven fingers instead of 10! And would the art be the same? Would the elephant still be so picky about her belly in doing a self-portrait?