Out of the Shadows: On the boundary of relationship
Holden Village, Washington
We can safely say that Holden Village, like our surrounding forest, is springing back to life out of the shadows of the Wolverine Fire (2015) and mine remediation. Many, many staff and volunteers have been part of the re-forming process that have helped produce an energizing and stimulating summer. Our faculty has challenged us to take the next step, to engage actively in the world and to be better stewards of creation. We have looked at how we might re-form our relationship to each other, to the earth and with God.
As we were putting together this year’s faculty, we thought a lot about re-forming and renewal at Holden and in our own lives. This spring we began to paint together again after almost two years. Demands on time and energy, a forest fire, and mine remediation, precluded our long practice of art making. Our rhythm of creating was disturbed. In nature, a forest fire is considered a “disturbance.” Just as nature uses a time of “disturbance” to re-create, or to begin again, so have we. Though it was hard work to figure out how to begin painting again, Beginning Together is exactly what we did.
We are currently working on seven paintings that explore boundary as the edge or margin, where things connect and find the new beginnings. While our paintings are a study of edges, boundaries, and contrast coming together, our narrative inspiration is about holding tension. The boundaries and edges are the places that hold tension and allow something new to rise from that strain. For us, tension is a place where we sense the Holy Spirit moving and creating within each of us and through us.
As our paintings progressed, we realized that part of what we were painting, at least with our color palette and shapes, was the forest fire we experienced in 2015. The Wolverine Fire contained immense destructive power, but it set the table for the rebirthing of the forest and the beauty that followed. Living on the edge of that fire, at that wilderness boundary and in that tension, we have borne witness to the earth’s resurrection.
Our art is non-representational. The purpose of this porous visual language is to leave art and the reality to which it points, open to the experience of the viewer. We trust that the viewer will continue the image and finish the thought, out of their particular experience. That requires the kind of rich metaphorical language that is open and polyvalent. Very often viewers of abstract art want an explanation, which means to slot the meaning into categories already predetermined and controlled. The tension of “not knowing” what something is supposed to mean can be uncomfortable. The image itself can call up different feelings and meanings to the person engaged with the work over time. As a former pastor mentioned to us once, a painting can “reach out and grab one by the throat.”
Whether “listening” to a painting or a person, by turning toward each other’s thoughts and intensions, and listening to what the other has to say, we remain open to hearing anew. Holding that tension can help us make a fresh start or break through to a new level of understanding. As a couple, we normally have to let go of the old and go through a stage of unknowing, confusion, or chaos before we can move to another level of awareness or a new capacity. This process of opening up and letting go requires an
act of faith, and it explains why doubt and faith are correlative terms. We, like so many of faith, often suffer bouts of great doubt while we continue to grow.
Our movement through the initial chaos and unknowing is necessary in our personal growth, our relationships, and with creating our art. It is also necessary in our intellectual breakthroughs, not just with the Divine but also with and through each other.
As we begin to grapple with the once shadowy systemic issues of racism, colonialism, misogyny, and privilege, we will have to learn the skills of deep listening, holding the stories of others, and living in the tension to build new relationships. Letting go of the old will, indeed, take us through stages of unknowing and confusion before we can move to another level of awareness and develop new capacities. It will require faith in the process, in each other and in the God that sustains us.
This process of opening up and letting go requires an act of faith, and it explains why doubt and faith are correlative terms.
Our work of painting, as well as growing and changing is unfinished and we are called to continue to venture into the unknown. The issues we face as a culture need to be dragged out into the light so we can see them for what they really are. The path will take us in and out of the shadows many times over. There will be tension to hold, but we are assured that a light shines within the shadows.
See more conversation in EARTH.