"Igsuon", 40 x 61 cm, mixed media on masonite
As I grapple with concepts of love and loss in this transition period, the most tangible representation that comes to mind are the eight original multimedia paintings I left in the art department of UWCSEA.
These paintings are united under the theme of identity being formed by the people who touch our lives in ways that are difficult to comprehend. They feature the people closest to my heart in UWC, thus took a lot of time and effort in coming up with colors and visual elements that best represented what my relationship to each of my subjects. From start to finish, it took an arduous process of photographing them, coming up with mock compositions, questioning my color choices, creating mood boards of logos, art that inspired them and so on. I had to scrap a lot of my original ideas to refine what would end up becoming my final body of work.
What stood out to me about this entire process was how much I enjoyed it. My previous paintings lacked intentionality, they were products of me enjoying the act of painting without ever wondering why I appreciated the human form or a particular shade of teal. Initially I was frustrated with this. Can’t I just making art for art’s sake? Does every tree branch need an explanation? But it was through this endeavour that I saw the glaring difference between my work that felt flat, and my work that breathes life. I had to ignore my instincts of instant gratification and really ask myself: Why I am making this? Who am I making it for? I loved digging deeper into my relationships with each of my subjects. It helped me understand why I am drawn to the friends I have. It was an introspective experience that communicated my perception of these people to the outside world. And that is art for me. It is being able to release all the ideas stewing within me in a way that others can absorb.
"Kalipay", 40 x 61 cm, mixed media on masonite
So why are more people focused on the end result? I guess it is because everything I have written prior cannot be easily quantified or held. You can buy an original piece and display it in your home. You cannot sell “digging deeper into the psyche” or measure “love for friends”. If you found a way to do that, then I congratulate you. But being able to monetise the abstract only places one kind of value on art.
A huge reason why I did not bring these paintings home is that, logistically speaking, they are too heavy and far too big. They are also not completely flat on account of the various materials I glued onto the surface. Yes, it might have been possible to ship these home—also I’m not rich and shipping fees are expensive— but why risk destroying the collage that I have painstakingly put together? I think a part of me relishes knowing that my artwork could adorn the hallways of my alma mater, just as I have many times stopped and stared at past works of art students that decorate the walls of the English department or even in the math department. There is always a story lurking. An intent. A plethora of emotions. A call to action. And I want to be a part of that ripple pushes people to create.
More than that, I have always had trouble with attachment. With my identity, with my circumstances, and with the friends I have, especially now that our paths are diverging. I have longed to find people like them. The grains of gold in the dirt after years of careful sifting and searching. You ever feel lost in laughter with the foreboding feeling that you will never recreate that moment again? I guess my mistake is believing that I will never find happiness again. Yet, I know I will. I will find people who light me up and keep me laughing until my sides hurt once more.
By letting go my physical paintings, I am choosing to hold on to memories of that meticulous process. By letting go my attachments to people, I allow them and myself to live our fullest lives, to hold onto my experiences and growth with them, but also to open my heart for new loved ones who may enter the picture. Letting go is choosing to have faith that my paths will cross with that of my friends in due time. To be open to other possibilities that could enrich me in ways I am not used to.
Much love and light,
Amanda
"Tsaa", 29.7 x 42 cm, tea and graphite on watercolor paper
“All great work—artistic, poetic, intellectual or spiritual—is produced at those moments when its creators are lost completely in their actions, when they forget themselves altogether, and are free from self-consciousness.”
I can only imagine how much more beautiful your paintings are in person! Nanlimbawt naman gani akong balhibo sa pag tan-aw diri sa photos. Unsa na kaha sa tinuod.
Letting go -holding on. A constant tension of opposites. My favorite line from this post: "By letting go my physical paintings, I am choosing to hold on to memories of that meticulous process. By letting go my attachments to people, I allow them and myself to live our fullest lives, to hold onto my experiences and growth with them, but also to open my heart for new loved ones who may enter the picture. Letting go is choosing to have faith that my paths will cross with that of my friends in due time. To be open to other possibilities that could enrich me in ways I am not used to."