The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus observed that the natural world was in a constant state of movement. People age, develop habits, and change environments. You can't step into the same river twice; even rocks are subject to changes by the elements over time. Change is the only constant. It’s the same way when making art. A large project will evolve over time. If you’ve followed mine, you know that’s true.
I started this project (In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil) in September of 2021. It’s fast approaching two years now. That’s not very long for me to work on something photographically or on any kind of creative project. The time isn’t relative to me. I couldn’t care less if it took me one year or ten years to complete a project or bring my ideas to some kind of meaningful creation. My point is that this project is ever-evolving, as it should be, and may have one more huge evolutionary step taking place over the next few months.
Lately, I’ve found myself wanting to push the work in this project farther. The words “tactile” and “tangible” come to mind often as I look at the work. I’ve loved the craft of photography for decades. It’s given me so much, and it’s always been a great outlet and very therapeutic for me. However, over the past ten years or so, I’ve wanted to push my art-making farther. And this project has revealed that this is the perfect time to do that.
So how do you make photography tactile or tangible? That’s the question I’ve been thinking about a lot. I see art-making as a series of problems to solve. It’s a lot like life itself. We’re faced with a series of problems to resolve every day. My tactile problem centers around two ideas. The first is to represent (abstractly) the landscape here. Specifically, the great mountain Tava-Kaavi. This is a big challenge. The second is to represent the colors. In essence, it’s the textures and colors of the land that I’m addressing. I don’t want the photographs to be taken out of context. These are the problems that I’ll be trying to resolve over the next month or so.
I’ve been reading Otto Rank’s book, “Art and Artist.” How the artist uses material to transfer their anxiety into and onto it is a powerful idea, but it does have some downsides (such as rejecting cultural constructs and being ostracized).
Ernest Becker’s interpretation of Rank’s writing in his book “The Denial of Death” has greatly influenced me as well. I really connect with Becker’s conclusion about his theories—the best answer that he could give. He said, “The most that any one of us can seem to do is to fashion something—an object or ourselves—and drop it into the confusion, make an offering of it, so to speak, to the life force.” I’ve been thinking deeply about that idea. It’s affected the way I want to approach this work.
I have to be honest and say that “straight” photography is a little bit repetitious for me. Don’t misunderstand me; I love photography, and I’m over the moon about the work I've been able to make for this project. I just feel that these ideas need more than straight photography to be represented in a meaningful and powerful way. I’ve been working on ideas to try to make that happen.
“Just as conscious contents can vanish into the unconscious, other contents can also arise from it. Besides a majority of mere recollections, really new thoughts and creative ideas can appear which have never been conscious before.
They grow up from the dark depths like a lotus, and they form an important part of the subliminal psyche.
Forgetting is a normal process in which certain conscious contents lose their specific energy through a deflection of attention.When interest turns elsewhere, it leaves former contents in the shadow, just as a searchlight illuminates a new area by leaving another to disappear in the darkness.
This is unavoidable, for consciousness can keep only a few images in full clarity at one time, and even this clarity fluctuates, as I have mentioned. "Forgetting" may be defined as temporarily subliminal contents remaining outside the range of vision against one's will.
But the forgotten contents have not ceased to exist. Although they cannot be reproduced, they are present in a subliminal state, from which they can rise up spontaneously at any time, often after many years of apparently total oblivion, or they can be fetched back by hypnosis.
Besides normal forgetting, there are the cases described by Freud of disagreeable memories which one is only too ready to lose. As Nietzsche has remarked, when pride is insistent enough, memory prefers to give way. Thus, among the lost memories we encounter, not a few owe their subliminal state (and their incapacity to be reproduced at will) to their disagreeable and incompatible nature. These are the repressed contents.”
Carl Jung