Through the Window: Framing, Perception, and the Illusion of Wholeness (Part II)

Pen and ink contemporary fine art by Doug Ashby

I can not recall where it was that I first heard the term, look up. I know it was in an article about our attachment to technological devices and how social media companies were using, to great effect, the very same techniques that casinos use to keep a player pulling the lever. Inspiration comes through many channels, however I feel that one must force themselves to look upward, and outward, to catch it. Looking through windows is often a way to simply see only what either we want to see, or worse, what others want. A reflection of bias. 

In last weeks artwork I talked about how there is a tension between our natural world and the one we construct, geometrically, from that. In the work above I am attempting to push beyond this theme a bit further. Windows are constructs, human made, that have many functions, yet they must fit within our capability to shape the natural world to our needs and desires. Therefore I present the window as that which we need to challenge ourselves with. Yes they reveal the outside world, but often in a given, framed, context. The geometry with which we use to shape the world becomes the very thing that filters it, giving back to us an incomplete view. Within that frame lies what needs to be broken. 

Memory is an interesting thing. Even when we possess what should be the same as others, differences emerge. This happens even more profoundly as time distances ourselves from the moment of creation. I am personally working on becoming a less prideful person. I used to pride myself on how good my memory was, especially for detail. As I get older now I realize that memory is truly a construct born of survival and through that window we tend to see only what we have constructed to best serve our need for survival. 

In this artwork I am attempting to both stay within he confines of what flows naturally from my mind, to my hand, yet add in elements that challenge that. I have long desired to place, within my work, human architectural elements as a way to further my theme of nature/human tension. By adding the window I am revealing how difficult that is. The floating window has the construct of the new, yet reveals only what is safe, the moons, a distant horizon, mountains over water, all that has become an indelible part of my work. It’s as if I created an artwork, and in that action I personally sought to push beyond my norm, yet created a curated view of what is expected. What I desire to see. 

Control then is what truly needs to be understood. I have a clear memory, as far as what that can be, of when I first was challenged to let go of what it is I can’t control. In my sophomore year of college I was caught drinking. I was underage. The university had a mandate that anyone caught had to attend a series of classes, with our school's counselor, that dealt with the risks and dangers of underage drinking. That began a long relationship between the counselor and myself. An individual, mentor, whom to this day I still am learning from. She challenged me to identify areas in my life that were troubling, yet out of the scope of my ability to influence. All these years later though I am still caught within a similar paradigm, yet I am still challenging control and working to deepen my understanding of what is within my ability and what is not. 

Architecture, as I mentioned in the last essay, is a way for humanity to exert control over that which cannot truly be controlled. We draw lines upon the earth and build great things to, in essence, make the world habitable for ourselves both physically and psychologically. We use tools like geometry, as a mode of measurement, to segment the world into manageable and recognizable parts. We create windows to not just show us what lies beyond, but to reflect back to us how we control what is there. At what point though does the need for control, for comfort in the known, become the very thing that destroys our innate creativity? To stop being inspired? 

One can see how this is possible. Windows have many metaphorical references. Quite reminiscent of something I caution myself to keep guard on, the echo chamber. In this artwork I am deliberately slamming together, much more than last week's artwork, incongruent elements. The tall columns serve to represent a quiet strength that stands against, almost sentinel like, towards an inner curiosity, guarding us from entering into that which only shows us what we want. And yet at the same time they represent the very best of our society, our common inherited values and narratives that draw us together. A safe harbor that we can move though, in between, towards the greater mysteries that drive us towards creation and understanding. There is a truly strange duality in the human construct that allows us to safely challenge our perceptions and move forward, yet can also be manipulated to keep us stagnant and unaware. Again it’s when we intentionally seek out friction, by looking up that gravity reveals that there is no one truth, but many. 

As a teacher I feel that part of my role is to help students see, and realize, that moments of dissonance, while uncomfortable, are safe to explore. Art is an excellent language with which to do so. My goal is to provide a safe environment for such exploration to take place. When such things do occur it is magical and truly worth one’s time and energy. Yet this is also an endeavor that never ends as the need for comfort, the need to feel safe and see the familiar through the window, has a strong pull. And at times it is OK to exist there. However the danger lies in forgetting that we all see through lenses constructed out of our memories that in turn formulate to confirm our preexisting ideas. In today's world we have technologies that seek out these biases and amplify them for the enrichment of a few. This happens to all of us. In turn this is why it is important to be vigilant and welcome opportunity, and others, into our lives that safely confront what we see through the windows of our mental constructs. Developing as many windows as we can helps to guard against stagnation, and worse, entrapment. 

Throughout my life, especially my adult life, art has served in this role. To challenge my beliefs. One simply cannot look upon painting 1946 by Francis Bacon and not feel as though a premonition, based on the past, is warning us about our future. My personal notion of love is often challenged and reinforced every time I gaze upon Oskar Kokoschka's Two Lovers. The grace and the beauty, contrasted by the bold brush work, evokes both the struggle and the power love has upon us. Part of my pride is that I long desire to be a part of art's long history of serving humanity in this way. Here I simply do not strive to make something that is visually pleasing, but also to provoke a quiet discomfort. An invitation, not an answer, to consider ambiguity and how that leads to questioning perception. Art is both a mirror to our filters and a window to what’s beyond. 

After those moments of dissonance, which I seek in art, life goes on. The moons still rise and our columns still stand tall, yet the window exists. It does not have to define what we are allowed to see though. We may never fully remove our bias as it has been shaped over the course of our entire lives but we can acknowledge and frame them. That is the first step towards breaking through the glass of the window. Shattering the tension that not only exists between the organic and geometric, between ourselves and others. Between truth and perception. 

Within all this I challenge myself, and you, to look upward and outward. To become an observer of the larger world that exists. Belief in what we see is something that comes naturally. We both desire and need it to be true. I am not immune from this at all. While pride is something that I seek to suppress it also has a double edge. It masks something deeper and darker. In between those opposing angles lies what is closer to reality. Perhaps by allowing myself to look through a new frame I can come closer to peace within. 

The original artwork you see here is for sale. It is 5” x 7”. It is $190. If you are interested in purchasing please reach out to me through my contact page. Also I would very much enjoy reading your thoughts on the artwork and writing so please do not hesitate to leave a comment. I promise I will respond. 

Thanks,

Doug