Wordless Value
“And All Oblivious Enmity” 2015 Oil of Board 16” x 20”
My Without a Net paintings started with the idea of representing my mind states on canvas. I wanted to be honest with myself. I wanted to look as directly as I could at what was happening in my mind.
I’d already spent years (decades really) trying to face myself with written inquiries and speaking to wise council. I wasn’t unsatisfied with how these methods had helped me wake up and be more aware, but after years (decades really) of painting, I knew that visual images could depict hidden worlds that words couldn’t touch.
Visual images speak and resonate on a visceral level. They pull out and put together meaning in a way the limited human mind cannot wrap it's linear thoughts around. They contain paradox, symbolism, and psychological depth, and they rise up to the viewer and grip them without the use of “figuring it out.”
I look at the Without a Net images every day as I draw a card from the WAN Deck. I never see the same meaning twice in the images, even though I (usually) painted them with a specific idea about the theme they’d represent. They’ve taken on a life of their own.
The fish card portrayed something dark when I painted it. It seemed like a deranged kind of hell. And now, it can mean “You’ve done all you can with your task, now get out in that beautiful weather.” On another day I saw, “You’re well-nourished, you’re suited up, your surroundings are clean, you have a beautiful view. Rest in gratitude.” I don’t seek out alternative meanings, they present themselves at first glance.
The reason I draw a card every day is to remind myself how perspective changes. To see what serendipitous hidden message might crop up. (I don’t count on it, but it can happen.) To acknowledge the fleeting unsubstantiality of my self-images while celebrating them at the same time, even if they are unsavory.
I don’t attach myself to what they’re all about. I pay attention to what physical sensations they bring up when I draw them; stories or ideas that arise are gravy, not the meat. Then I watch my day unfold, seeing if the day brings more resonance or connection about the morning’s card.
Sometimes the card brings a surprising, powerful sense of wonderment to my day. The beauty of that is, I get to show my detachment by turning it over and drawing another card the next day, with the possibility that it could be a stinker (an interpretation of one, anyway.) I’m always reminded of how much I don’t know about the future and the past.
Especially the past. Each day of my life I interpreted events and people’s intentions like I knew what I was seeing. Truth is, I knew as much as I know when I interpret my cards. They can mean anything depending on where I am.
I love that I can’t give you a rock-solid idea of how the cards might work for you or what you’ll see. I am continually discovering new levels of un-knowing and each is another vista of freedom. But I can tell you that the wordless value of them has been a beautiful accompaniment for my path, and I’m happy to share that with you, in case you might want to try it for yourself.
