Between a Rock and a Bright Place

Continuing being anything seems challenging now. We are self-confined and to some extent, externally rattled by news and worry. The thought of finding peace seems either impossible or unethical.

I hiked three miles into a remote canyon in southern Arizona alone today, March 24th for some peace. The global pandemic follows us in consciousness if not biologically. Yet…there was a respite; the combination of walking, rock hopping, climbing, smelling the desert Spring, feeling the sun on my skin, brought me to a good place.

There are hidden petroglyphs in this canyon, dozens, with no park sign or pamphlet to distract from their remoteness or that they were at some remote time, important to people; people who are not here now.

These days, do we remember our long histories of tragedy and joy? Was it just three months ago that we embraced our friends? How will we record these times in our minds and hearts?

Pu'uhonua: Place of Refuge

Quoted from Park Service documents:

“In the time of kapu, (forbidden or taboo) a woman eats with a man. A maka’ãinana (commoner) casts his shadow on an ail’i. Someone catches a fish out of season. Break these or any other kapu, and you face the ultimate punishment of death. Your only chance of survival is to elude your pursuers on foot, make your way to the coast, and swim to the Pu’uhonua. If you make it—and many do not—you may be absolved by a priest.

During times of war, the Pu’uhonua served another role— as sanctuary for children, elders, and other noncombatants. Defeated warriors could also seek safety in the refuge. When the battle ended they were free to resume their lives regardless of the battle’s outcome.”

Kapu ended in 1819. “It remains a sacred place of peace, calm, and refuge to Hawaiians, open to all who find their way here.”

These photos were taken at the place along the rocky shore where seekers who swam would land. There are tide pools and jagged rocks.

I spoke with a Hawaiian man who told me that the ‘pursuers’ were a special group of people who had extraordinary strength and endurance. To become a pursuer, one needed to be able to run from one side of the Hawaii (the Big Island) to the other and back in one 24 hour day. (120 miles). It made outrunning them beyond lucky. It was deemed that if you managed to reach Pu’uhonua, the gods must be with you.

Mahalo to the Hawaiians who preserve their culture and share it.

Monotheism?

I visited Kauai's Hindu Monastery - Saiva Siddhanta Headquarters. Walking amongst the temples and statues, it struck me (and this perception may have been influenced by Carl Jung and the concept of archetypes and the unconscious) that monotheism, the culture that Westerners pay most attention to, might be a narrowing of the polytheistic religions of the East.

The photographic project here in Mergings has demonstrated that under certain circumstances, the single ‘I’ might be separated into a ‘we’: multiple aspects of ourselves. In Hindu and other Eastern religions there are frequently figures with multiple faces and arms. Is it possible that monotheism has intentionally or unintentionally directed us to regard the ‘one’, the ‘I’ above the ‘many’ or ‘us’? Or in other words, The Ego?

What if, as the multi-universe and many-selves believers (perceivers) have it correctly? What if we are a container for many selves? What if our ego is working to obscure them?

The Journal

Journaling involves chronicling events from one beginning point to an undermined endpoint. Within this photography project there exists a journal of places and times where I chose or was able to immerse myself in a body of water. In all cases the bodies of water were in natural places: parks, oceans, lakes, rivers.

There is also a parallel journal of awareness; each place demanded that I place attention on the geologic, historic, and human context of the water. It has been suggested, though not intended specifically, that this journals the environmental aspect of water. This has especially been unavoidable when water was contaminated by chemicals or bacteria (Lake Ponchartrain in New Orleans for one) or was already a wildlife preserve where I would be the contaminant.

As a journal, this website also represents my interest in the subconscious, the collective unconscious, and archetype as explored by Carl Jung and others. The effect of the water illuminates the multiple selves in time that each of us contains.

The Portrait

The ‘Selfie’ is ubiquitous now. The ‘Portrait’ is ancient. From the beginning of self-awareness, humans have sought to leave some impression of themselves behind, whether as handprints on stone or figure heads of stone and wood.

Today, with access to media, the portrait becomes a blur of self-recording if not self-examination. How do we take the self out of portraits?

Looking at thousands of works of art , I sometimes think that all art is self-portraiture.

Rio Grande Mud

On a recent visit to Big Bend National Park I explored the intersection of the United States border with Mexico, which IS the Rio Grande. So much has happened there before and after white settlers and military staked claims on the land.

Interpreting these events through the natural element of the river required time and meditation (separate from the intellectual thinking that we sometimes are drawn to). The result is the works shown here. Mud is ever present along the Rio Grande. The level of the river rises and falls according to Mexico’s use of it for irrigation but the mud is always there.

See the rest on the Serial Works page.

The Extent

Where does one take his or her art. I know artists who meticulously plan the arc of their work, like campaign strategists; many of them are highly successful.

I have always been prone to follow some, as yet unseen map, allowing myself to be taken down dark paths, along fast moving rivers, or, at times into a meditative place. This work is all three. Yet, I find myself doing ‘post production’ strategizing; where will I show the photos, who might help me make them public, and of course, the joy and bane of most artists, how will I sell them?

I invite all responses to these questions. In the meantime, I travel on, currently in San Antonio, Texas and soon in Big Bend National Park.

http://www.mergings.net

Life and Death

Modern people rarely see death as part of life. We tend to ignore it until it is upon us or our loved ones; same goes for depression. In both cases, they offer opportunities for us to engage and understand life. The entire photo project shown on this website began as a question: How has War and Genocide touched me. A bit hard to avoid the subject of death, hopelessness, and life’s part in it. Yet, this exploration resulted in a stronger connection to the eternal realities of existence as well as a pictorial representation of the spectrum of life and death and our equal immersion in both.. Although not explicitly stated, I have hoped to juxtapose the living elements in the photos with the dead ones.

Found Objects

The things we live with: cars, gadgets, containers, clothing, plumbing, animals, and the bones that support them, eventually become detritus. Each piece contains a story, a past, often a life. The objects we pick up may call to us because they resonate with our memories or aesthetic.

In creating the sculptures found on this site, I followed my instincts and aesthetic in picking up items that were overlooked or thrown up on the beach or roadside. Assembling these to become figures meant that all the disparate stories of the items coalesced into a new being with it’s own life and ability to speak through imagery.

I’ve often thought that artists are always working with found things, whether tactile or imaginary.

Archetypes

An archetype acts as a symbol or representative of larger meaning. Archetypes can manifest as objects, sounds, or personal traits, in forms that remind us of sacrifice, heroism, nurturing. We are, whether consciously or not, sensitive to archetypes. We may each have a central group that guide our self and our world-view.

Water

A child is irresistibly drawn to water. Later, we may see it as a symbol of the unknown, adventure, or danger. It is also the archetype of the unconscious, which in plain terms makes our mind run toward hidden meaning. In the portrait photographs where I submerged myself, the transformative power of water, visually and psychically, are apparent.

As a boat person, water becomes a trackless path upon which to travel. It provides buoyancy, sound, shape, and grace to a journey. Exploring our unconscious can feel exhilarating or terrifying, just as a voyage beyond sight of land can feel.

We humans originally developed in the sea, of Earth and within our mothers. There is hardly a more compelling substance.

More

Prior to the portrait work featured on this site, I was primarily a landscape photographer. However, with a background in illustrating, painting, and graphic design, I sought a way to enhance certain photos. This photo, taken at Point Lobos State Park in California with a medium format camera begged for greatness. It suggested, to me, the ink paintings of Japan and China.

In order to achieve this effect, I layer the original with other images: the leather cover of a five-hundred year-old book, a field of salt grass. The crystal detail of the high resolution original blended with the simpler images. This photo prints well in very large format.

The super-abundance of photographs in current circulation begs us as photographers to look deeply into the subject and story of our work.