I am no longer the “I” of that episode; but it is still possible for me to remember what happened, perhaps even to tell it. I am still, however incompletely, Borges.
From ‘The Zahir’ in Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings, New Direction Books: New York, 2007, p. 156
*
Time inexorably moves forwards and we all change. I am not the person that I used to be; nor am I my past lives in which, perhaps, I was a wolf padding through a northern forest, or a dragonfly that only lived for three light-filled summer days. Yet, something of the I I once was must still exist in the I I am now, for time spirals indefinitely, circling over lost ground never actually lost, coming back to where it started, and beginning again.
Therefore, some part of me is capable of remembering the events of my past, remembering my thoughts and feelings, even reliving them, and is thus capable of telling my story—though it may be interspersed with fiction masquerading as fact, incorrect recollections, dreams permeating memory.
I will make an attempt at relating the tale of who I once was, though I cannot vouch for its accuracy.
October 2014
*
Because I haven’t been able to write much recently I’ve been led to seek inspiration by looking back at past work, such as the short piece of writing above, which I think is rather special, but also some of my old art. When I created this blog, I did hope (perhaps a little too optimistically) that it would motivate me to make more art, to share some of my creative explorations, but so far there has been little of that. Yet I thought I would take this opportunity to share some of the art from my past, to give you some vague impressions of who I once was, what interested me, and what I loved.
I am, and am not, the girl who created these works.
Waterlilies, 2000; photograph
I am, and am not, the girl who created these works.
Page from art diary, 1997; oil pastels, watercolours, pen and pencil
Page from art diary, 1997; pencil and gold pen, and featuring a quote about dragons from Ursula Le Guin’s The Farthest Shore (Earthsea #3)
Study of arm (after Michelangelo), page from art diary, 1998; pencil
Argea, the Fateful Faery (sketch after Brian Froud), 1999; pencil
The Green Lady of the Faery Knoll (sketch after Brian Froud), 1999; pencil
Rock Painting, etching, 1999; the acid bit into my plate a little unevenly, so I struggled to get any decent prints, but I do love this design
Reflections, 1999; photograph created by sandwiching two negatives together (one of a tree, the other of ripples in water)—this image was published in Sydney University’s literary and creative arts journal, Hermes, in 2001
Page from art diary (faerie sketches after Brian Froud), 2000; pencil, ink, watercolours and pen
Page from art diary, 2000; collage and pen
Page from art diary, 2000; collage and pen
Waterlilies, 2000; photograph
Four trees, page from art diary, 2001; pen and ink
Page from art diary, 2001; pencil
Goddess figures, page from art diary, 2001; pencil (I was clearly inspired by the Venus of Willendorf and other such figures)
Four abstract works, 2002; acrylic paint and Japanese ink
Girl, page from art diary, 2002; gouache
Wow, Therese, these are amazing! I have a couple of old art journals, but I threw a lot away (especially the writing journals) after the stroke, as I didn't want reminding what I COULD do before (I couldn't read or write for 2 years). I regret it now, but there you are...
ReplyDeleteI've just posted pics from my Lenten logbook - finally finished!
http://nestofmist.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/finished-finally.html
Thank you, Claire. I've only shared the very best of my work, but going through those old diaries has reminded me of how much I used to just draw and create things, purely for the love of it—something I rarely do nowadays. I guess we can't help changing, or being changed, but we can remember who we were, and build upon who we are now. At least, that is what I hope/intend to do.
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