I made this one today. This morning started with a wash of anxiety but instead of giving in to it I decided to try another mandala. It was a great exercise in focus and calm, taking about 5 hours to do.
I really enjoy generating the symmetrical forms with corresponding sizes and geometry. The solid black ring is the ocean to me and the eyes maybe personify the ocean as well as reflect my love of sea gazing. Overall I think the piece represents the kind of harmony I’ve experience out here between myself , the ocean and the larger world around me.
I know people can be pretty wierd about 5 pointed stars but I don’t actually ascribe to those beliefs so no Christian occult undertones are implied here. I just like the geometry.
Hope you enjoy
An amazing poem written by my friend Marisa Ramcharan about my work
ode to thine art,
-no words, yet, thy mode voluminously speaks to the heart,
in depth and stroke, light & shadow, hue & form – but no words, nay,
ill-equipped are they,
tome upon tome will fall short, alas,
yet all will be said, upon one, just one, lowly
i have two pieces featured in their online catalogue.
The two pieces are conte drawings that represent different places in Trinidad during Jouvay.
I did these 2 mandalas last night while having a Jane Austen marathon. I read that it was a meditative exercise so i looked up the basic structure of a mandala and tried some stuff out.
It is actually really calming. I forgot that about line-work – that you have to become very still in your body and mind. I also find that it makes me take long and deep breaths, not unlike Pranayama techniques so that my body doesn’t shake while I draw.
All in all it was v fun and v calming so I will keep this up. Enjoy!
A moment of blinding realization. Sitting on the water’s edge, the sky was grey and the tides low. It was maybe 3 degrees out and I sat huddled on a big boulder. Over the valley I could see the sun spreading slowly as the clouds behind me parted. When the light reached and warmed me, I turned behind to see the brilliant sun breaking through the heavy purple clouds. Up above me, flying over me and over the valley was an eagle. A real, live eagle. In that moment it came to me. All this life, all of human consciousness – we are witnesses.
Does a tree fall in the woods if no one’s there to hear it? Of course it does. We put value however on the witnessed account. Our eyes, our senses, our cognizance – what we do best is tell stories. As an artist, I am a medium through which my cumulative life experiences are sorted, weighed and re-stated through pigment and form.
So that eagle could fly over that valley every day as might be the case, but its significance to you who read this and I who experienced it, is framed by my single afternoon’s reflection. That changes things. We can be such self important animals. I’ve found that life is richer and more worthwhile when I understand myself as part of a large, moving tapestry of creative experience. My eyes and my hands are no more significant than any other, but what is unique to me is my narrative, that is, my position in the tapestry – my literal point of view.
My senses are the windows through which all the world around me is contextualized. So as people, we are many points of reference and many re-imaginations of the same earth and our space within it.