Archived Comments
Enjoy the past comments below for In search of ideoglossia…
Robert, I have done some vochate today and feel pushopple. Your message brought gammvetting. It hit the knabbick. And the code below is to live by.
As an identical twin, I know my sister and I had our own language when we were young. Although I don’t recall any of the exact words, we still have clairvoyant moments even now. We are often connected when one is ill and we will reach out and call. I have only been painting seriously for six years, but I have always spoken to my paintings and brushes — even the weather, as I love plein air art.
Couples that spend lot of time together develop ideoglossia as well. Sinisa and I do that and interestingly our word for you is spleeb. We were in Crescent Beach last Sunday walking on trails near the community garden and trying to guess which of the overhanging houses was yours. I wanted to yell Boooob! but Sinisa said that wouldnt be wise.
I sometimes feel so internally occupied, in my own language, that to put it in words like this would seem to dispel the magic of the process, not to mention it would take a shift from the inside to the outside. I do appreciate that you can do this, and marvel at it. When you state what’s going on so clearly it supports my secret, quiet habits. My abstract language that comes through color, space and gestures is something like the movement of dance or the movement I feel from music that inspires me. I think the visual communicates and resonates within us without verbal articulation, that is the beauty of visual art. It speaks to our senses and immediately. When someone then verbalizes what they experience it is like sharing a treasure they discovered. It often happens for me that when another sees my art and asks specific questions I get to participate in the unpacking of what on some level I know is there, and it is enthralling to be a part of this discovery. Viewers and artists share the gifts of art in this way, and it seems necessary.
I think an artist is actually their own worst critic, I am not yet to the stage on being confident in what I paint but I certainly have started to appreciate that we all have our own style and there is nothing wrong with it. Every painting I have done recently I have tried to challenge myself — e.g. how do I paint water, deep forest and presently animals. The title “artist” to me is something that I am working towards — as of present I consider my self just a “dabbler”.
I remember as a kid camping with my family at Kootenay National Park, Canada, the Park Ranger telling us to listen for the Barred Owl’s unique sound! I have never forgotten that and can it is the only Owl I recognize when I hear it! Also, just a couple years ago I had a close encounter with a Saw-whet when I found him hunting in my haystack!
I started painting at 65-no official training and then classes with an amazing local artist — David McEown. When I am called an artist it is rather tongue in cheek that I say yes, it is a hobby and I love it, it was therapeutic on the death of my husband, it has made me so many friends, but the main thing which I am trying to say is we are not all in the art world to make money, yes I have sold a few paintings at our art show sales, I belong to 2 clubs, my family and friends love (some) of my paintings Most clubs want you to have a bio, go on web sites, please let me just be a hobby water-colourist and enjoy my painting. I follow David’s travels and accomplishments with joy, we will be friends for ever.
Thanks so much for the awesome emails. I find them to be very inspiring and love how days after reading one I am still thinking about some of what you said. The only thing that could make them even better is if they were a podcast and I could listen to them in my studio.
I suppose as I have spent most of my adult life as a professional illustrator and portraitist, I am relishing my current life where I am able to concentrate on my own work without worrying about pleasing someone else. Furthermore, I find that as soon as I think about monetary gain, my work becomes tainted and my muse abandons me. I am fortunate to be in this position, but I worked and saved to be able to do this. Perhaps this is just a temporary, though necessary, phase for me. I do like the idea of eventually having a show and then perhaps I will have to deal with the price issue. I enjoyed your radio interview, though I was a bit irritated with your interviewer for constantly interrupting you, sometimes even trying to answer her own questions.
Your letter this week seems extra special, especially ‘esoterica’ and the way you have described your beautiful relationship with the owls near your studio. It took me to another place of peace and I could almost hear that little owl family myself, especially the petulant young one. We have magpies here with their young at present, and they have to be the noisiest, most demanding offspring in the bird kingdom and are delightful in their quirky ways. I fed a family of them for almost a year and they ate out of my hand, a very special time for me. I think you may even have inspired me just a little.
Since I married my wife I haven’t fallen in love with anything else but art.
It is also a belief that twins, when they are apart they can feel each others’ feelings especially in intense pain or excitement. I used to lie alone and watch clouds in the sky and see their shapes as an animal or some chariot pulled by horses and other images. I lost my mother when I was young and when I felt sad I sung sentimental songs that expressed the longings of a child for a lost parent. Somehow I felt comforted and happier. I imagined how it was to be held in her arms once again. I also think of my friends under the old mango tree in our school with concrete semi-circular benches around it where we used to share anecdotes and I am contemplating painting it.
When on a visit to Linnyland (where it’s nearly always warm and sunny) the visitor discovers a unique style of paintings. Very often, the Linnyland visitor says, “These paintings make me feel happy! Tell me, Linny, what do you call this style of painting?” “It’s called Linnyism”, I say to the visitor and their smile broadens. ~ Life is good Linnyland — I love it here! ~
Some communication is purely visual, other times it is audio. Scenes speak to us as artists and one would assume we are highly visual people. However, when my birds “talk” to me on my back deck under the oaks my vision is arrested and I have to watch, listen, and observe them. Some are more attuned to people than other species and interact on a more personal basis … such as, “The birdbath is empty. Please fill it, now.” Or, “The feeder is low!” Their communication doesn’t need words. Ah, but with my husband of 35 years? One daughter has said, “You guys freak me out.” …. such is communication where you finish each other’s sentences and know what the other is thinking. My art speaks to me but it is more arguing than coming to any consensus. Still working on that ….
Thank you for the word. It is what I have been looking for to describe the way my father (a genius,dyslexic and mildly autistic) spoke. It makes sense. Sometimes he’d say something in the conversation and I would think I’d not heard him clearly. As he got older it became more commonplace. He had words and short forms and (I would guess) military codes that he would use and when I was a child if I didn’t understand him ….. well it wasn’t always pleasant. Is this what you mean as well by ideoglossia? Now that he is gone so many questions (I was a “why” kid) cannot be answered that weren’t answered in his life and I am still searching for answers to rest my past with him. He didn’t consider my doing art something worthy of any acknowledgment. My response has been to write and draw and come up with concepts for a very small show at our local Art Council mini gallery — The Mym Gallery (it’s the old back porch — about 8’x9′, including a doorway and 3 westerly windows).I have to be ready to set it up by Feb 23 for an 18 day run. I have found so much stuff sorting through his possessions for clearing up his Estate that they have become a depository for collage works and 3-D pieces. I am a shy artist, so speaking out about the “under the radar” verbal abuse ( to be blunt) I endured for most of my life is a big scary leap and challenge that I need to complete to go forward with my own reflective art. There is some intimidation about offending some people in the community who thought he was such a gentleman, and that can make me question what I am doing, yet I also know I have to get this cleaned out of my system to do future art. Thank you for listening. I really enjoy getting your Twice-weekly Letters. It gives me many other art-y things to think about.
Rocky Mountain Spring acrylic painting, 36 x 18 inches by Linda Jolly, AB, Canada |
Very insightful and thought provoking. It is at the core of most great art created. You are light years ahead of so many still struggling with thier paints. Good luck.