on being grounded…

Posted: September 10, 2019 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: activ8, the ash tree | Tags: Arte Povera, ecopsychology, Feeling, Meditation, poetry, Prayer, Ritual, Visual arts | Leave a comment

Arrrrgh, Let me OUT!! (pen on envelope on human head) © p ward 2019

there are some of us

who are accused

of being ‘grounded’:

perceiving the world and our actions

through a balanced, responsible and rational lens

rooted in practicality and common sense.

but then some of us have also been ‘grounded’ as punishment,

our freedom curtailed by a parent or guardian

for actions that often do not lie within preconceived moral boundaries,

boundaries of balance, responsibility and rationality,

often rooted in practicality and common sense

often according to Nature and her Laws

Teignmouth, South Devon; Big Silver Bentley, Gurnard’s Head, Cornwall © p ward 2019

but how we wish to fly

to shed the shackles of good sense

for other and ourselves

in search of learning, perspective and sensual joy

defining new boundaries beyond our knowledge

or otherwise fleeting original experience

before our time is out

in magic

we see

in magic

we live

Trease Mine, Boscaswell, Cornwall © p ward 2019

and yet…

Posted: September 10, 2019 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: activ8, the ash tree | Tags: art and science, Arte Povera, climate crisis, climate emergency, eco art, ecopsychology, Feeling, Interdisciplinarity, Meditation, poetry, Prayer | Leave a comment

this climate emergency, part 2

drawing on my face 4: seeing (masking tape and marker pen on human head) © p ward 2019

and yet,

the sun and moon still rise and fall

birds sing

grass grows

everything is somehow in place.

despite imagery evocative of an abrupt demise,

despite rising popular opinion and attendant fearful frenzy,

despite the corroboration of a high percentage of scientific peers,

despite indicative physical, ideological and pecuniary global suffering and conflict,

despite a lifelong personal acknowledgement of our continuing abuse of Nature…

I do not sense

I do not feel

the end.

I cannot sense

I cannot feel

the end.

I do not, cannot

and will not accept

the end.

so what of instinct and intuition (the antithesis of science)?

what of individual response?

what of collective consciousness?

what of the uninformed, the common man?

are we, en masse, running from the ensuing fire?

and anyway, where can we run in this apparent global catastrophe?

if I do not feel it,

if I stand aside the mindful stampede,

am I simply burying my head in the sand

in denial of empirical objectivity,

in fear of the inevitable?

or is it that

I do not know within my power what more I may do?

as I stand on this excellent brink of oblivion, this ending of sorts,

with the knowledge, wisdom and capability of all I have before

there is opportunity

there is technology

and there is love.

I must either believe in the magic and wonder of the human spirit within Nature or not

like every day

like any day

I breath

I choose

I act according to (my) Nature…

drawing on my face 4: seeing (masking tape and marker pen on human head) © p ward 2019

it is like being told I am dying

Posted: August 24, 2019 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: activ8, the ash tree | Tags: Arte Povera, arts research, climate crisis, climate emergency, eco art, ecopsychology, extinction rebellion, Feeling, Meditation, poetry, Prayer | 3 Comments

this climate emergency, part 1

in a climate of overwhelming societal and professional expectation as an artist and an earth being i have struggled to know how to meaningfully and effectively respond directly to this ever-present issue. here are some of my thoughts and feelings expressed through words and an ongoing visual project…

it is like being told I am dying

that I am in the final stages of a terminal disease

after a long chronic illness or complaint

and that if I live the way I always should have,

the way I always have,

the way I have always known I should,

the way I have always said we should,

then maybe, maybe, maybe

I will not die.

it is like being told I am dying

but that everyone else and every other life is dying too.

that we are all dying and that it is all our own fault,

well, maybe not allour own fault

but somebody’s fault, some system’s fault, some thought-form’s fault,

that this beauty, this wonder that we experience on a daily basis

will no longer exist (for us)

because of us

it is like being told that everything and everybody that we love

is going to die, to not be.

it is a just like dying,

my experience of dying and death

in normallife –

we are all dying.

we are all going to die.

we are all living with the knowledge that we are all going to die,

that everything and everybody that we love is going to die

and that we shall experience suffering (and joy)

together.

it is still a shock when it comes.

when the reality of our imminent passing becomes apparent.

the utter enormity of it

combined with our inherent inability to conceive of such.

and who are we to talk to

other than those others similarly afflicted and condemned,

others who love and feel and care,

those who are afraid of what might become?

how shall we live?

how shall I live?

how shall I end this final sentence?

drawing on my face – smile (masking tape and marker pen on human head) © p ward 2019

eggs have legs and other tales of intimate rebellion…

Posted: April 26, 2019 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: activ8, eARTh, Uncategorized | Tags: Arte Povera, Arts, arts research, Cornwall, earth pigments, eco art, ecopsychology, Environmental art, indigenous culture, Interdisciplinarity, Meditation, painting, Pigment, poetry, Social change, Soil Culture, Visual arts | Leave a comment

(more paintings from the end of earth 2019)

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.”― Rumi

as I sit with peaceful abandon

far out upon my churlish perch

painting pontifications of intimate expression

in relation with place and time and all,

I have most recently been given good cause to reflect…

beneath me now (Cornish earth pigments on canvas; 30x25cm) © p ward 2019

not only upon an inherent inability for punctuation (and breath)

or the ability of egg (local and free range to boot),

both yolk and white, with most moist unctuous fluidity

to stick and bind and glaze (with a little vinegar to dilute;

PS1: tempera is not a light batter originating in Japan)

but upon movement and change and responsibility

and power and loss (and hence gain) and intent and motivation

and communication and honesty and truth

and (of course) magic and then stories and pictures and love.

the time has come to pick up our arms and dangle our feet

to the tune of an age old heartache – our connection (or lack of)

to life that gives and takes and breathes and yearns to live again.

so, thank you to the warriors,

the shouters and dancers,

the artists who care,

the thinkers who dare

to speak their thoughts for all and all and all,

hand in hand with birds and beasts,

with clouds and sea and rain falling in the sunshine fields.

I am me and you in you.

It is once more… rebellion!

inconsequential wildlife of an aquine persuasion (Cornish earth pigments on board; 40x40cm) © p ward 2019

memories of life after life (Cornish earth pigments on reclaimed wood; 64x18cm) © p ward 2019

heady (Cornish earth pigments on reclaimed board; 30x50cm) © p ward 2019

as loud as a moon – lord and lady muck (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 17x18cm) © p ward 2019

9 cornish earth forms (Cornish earth pigment egg tempera on paper; 48x42cm) © p ward 2019

dichotomous circumstance (Cornish earth pigment egg tempera on reclaimed wood; 45x45x4.5cm) © p ward 2019

walking through time (Cornish earth pigment egg tempera on reclaimed wood; 29x14x4.5cm) © p ward 2019

approaching the ocean; bridleway (on wood); stars and stripes; dark head; track; lake; across the river (Cornish earth pigment egg tempera on paper; various 16x14cm) © p ward 2019

head I (Cornish earth pigment egg tempera on paper; 28x28cm) © p ward 2019

head 2 (Cornish earth pigment egg tempera on paper; 28x28cm) © p ward 2019

oops, upside your head! spring equinox full moon (Cornish earth pigments on reclaimed board; 78x78cm) © p ward 2019

the pigment hunter (Cornish earth pigments on reclaimed board; 87x87cm) © p ward 2019

you are stronger than you think you are – dancing with the goddess (Cornish earth pigments on reclaimed board; 98x90cm) © p ward 2019

consequences of loss I – catering (gaffer tape and glue remnants on repurposed card; 50x25cm) © p ward 2019

consequences of loss II – patellidae (true limpets) (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 36x35cm) © p ward 2019

consequences of loss III – walking with spirit (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 43x28cm) © p ward 2019

earth heads I (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 37x28cm) © p ward 2019

consequences of loss IV – exclusive (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 25x27cm) © p ward 2019

consequences of loss V – holding on too (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 36x44cm) © p ward 2019

earth shield (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 52x17cm) © p ward 2019

riding fox-back in the cloud of cuckoo-land before the almighty deluge begins… (Cornish earth pigments on repurposed card; 55x47cm) © p ward 2019

PS2:

this is not an intellectual activity,

doomed to a critical aloof

or heady reevaluation in words alone,

it is body and blood

co-mingling

conjoined

codependent

striving for and in

action

to survive

with sadness (and in love)

Posted: November 13, 2017 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: the ash tree, Uncategorized | Tags: #GNAP France 2017, Arte Povera, Devon, Ecology, ecopsychology, Meditation, North Devon, poetry, Ritual | Leave a comment

at times of loss and grief

we may turn to Nature for solace,

to water, wind, fire and earth

to rocks, soil, fungi and trees

to insects, animals and birds

for guidance

for resilience

and strength

we may immerse ourselves

in the mundane, in the everyday

in routine and simplicity

not to avoid the pain

but to live with it

to feel it without distraction

we may assimilate our feelings and thoughts

through our work

through creative activity

through cathartic acts

through play

I sit in the flowing river

the cool water moves around my stationary working form

touching my legs, ankles and hips, hands and forearms,

I feel connected to life

once more

or through physical activity

where the rhythm of movement,

of muscles and breath and heart working in time,

lift us to an alternate state

to see our situation anew

in a different light

not with mind

but with body

and in fantasy and dreams

the world becomes larger

not illusionary but more real

past present future revealed

through our actions we may sense

the wonder of each passing moment

of being alive with our pain

of feeling at all

and with thanks

we can move forward

and in love

la grille d’entrée, Les Perrières, France © p ward 2017

les crânes et les plumes, Les maison troglo de Forges, France © p ward 2017

pic vert, les Perrières, France © p ward 2017

graffiti, Ackermann champagne vaults, France © p ward 2017

morning lake, Offwell Woods, Devon © p ward 2017

pollen path, Coombe Woods, London © p ward 2017

blocks, The Lizard, Cornwall © p ward 2017

blue butterfly, Hele, Devon © p ward 2017

coming of age

Posted: July 5, 2017 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: eARTh | Tags: Aesthetics, Arte Povera, arts research, Bideford Black, Earth, earth pigments, eco art, ecopsychology, Environmental art, Feeling, Meditation, North Devon, painting, Pigment, Visual arts | Leave a comment

more new paintings (and thoughts about my practice), summer 2017

“I am no longer sure of what I am doing. But then, quite simply, I am painting. I am putting together objects from materials that I gather locally, here in North Devon. Materials that are significant to me. That have stories to tell. That connect me to this place and to my being. The objects created are celebrations of this life. They are explorations. Simple, intuitive journeys of making in the here and now…” (Artist statement, summer 2017)

At the tender age of fifty I am finding it harder to define exactly what my artwork is about. In the past I might talk about the power of art as an agent of change but no longer feel this is my main inspiration. Its power is now subtler both within my life and in the world. No longer do I work obsessively, searching for meaning and understanding – indeed my life does not allow it – but see it as a means to share my sense of wonder with the world, through both the materials I use and the approach I take to making. It is a space for myself, to come to terms with life, to find balance and peace. For whatever reason art and making has become a central aspect of my being, like a good friend. Whether this has a positive value to society as a whole I am not sure but in society, art is always there, in whatever form, quietly infiltrating the rigid constructs of our existence.

However comfortable I may personally feel with my artistic practice I still feel a need (and this is where an issue/dilemma arises) to verbally justify and explain it to others, both for the sake of art historical context and as an aesthetic anchor within the art market – people seem to like to know what they’re buying into. To say that I enjoy mystery or the process seems simply not enough. Intuition is very important to me – to make, to work with the materials, until a piece ‘feels’ ‘right’ is essential to the process.

To approach work not necessarily from any literal or narrative starting point, beyond the constraints of my chosen materials, but simply as an act of trust or sense of belief in the creative process and in my simple intent – to share my sense of wonder and beauty in existence. I have been slowly building my own language of marks and forms in response to the process of gathering and making paint with earth pigments. As such I feel the work is a celebration of our connection to place, and the physical matter of place, and our evolving relationship with them.

The titles I enjoy as a poetic response to the work, often with reference to personal experience, and as a means for others to access the work.

Politically and spiritually the work I do is significant through its lack of ‘control’, through its trust in simple processes and its respectful empathy with natural materials – it is made in mindful contradiction of the current worldview of human superiority, of ‘power over’, in denial of our supposed ability to know what is the right thing to do – we have already endangered existence through our arrogance, maybe it is time to step back a little before we create more problems. To live simply, in peace with ourselves, with others and all of existence is maybe all we can do…

Infiltration is the process by which water on the ground surface enters the soil. Infiltration rate in soil science is a measure of the rate at which soil is able to absorb rainfall or irrigation. It is measured in inches per hour or millimetres per hour.[i]

________________________________________

[i] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infiltration_(hydrology)

simple tasks

Posted: March 2, 2016 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: activ8, eARTh | Tags: Arte Povera, arts research, earth pigments, eco art, ecopsychology, Environmental art, Feeling, Meditation, Pigment, poetry, Visual arts | 4 Comments

as an artist experiencing cessations in the creative flow

or an utter lack of enthusiasm for making from time to time

it is heartening to experience how the most simple actions

no matter how difficult they may sometimes be

like folding and tearing paper

grinding some local earth pigments

and painting basic patterns

(with the intention of creating a set of cards for sale)

can enliven my spirits

get the mind ticking again

and lead to a bounteous plethora of new ideas and directions

whether it is something particularly inspiring about the whole process

of collecting pigments in the landscape and making paint

or whether it is evident in all forms of simple creative actions

i’m not sure

but it feels good

and reminds me of how art has enriched and inspired my life for so many years

i like my work

i like what I make

and i am eternally grateful to the universe for offering me these gifts:

the ability to perceive beauty

the aptitude to make beautiful things

and the opportunity to inspire others to do the same…

painting with eARTh day, Hele Corn Mill 15216, images courtesy Sophie Twiss

of black and white 15815

Posted: September 4, 2015 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: BIOSPHERic, eARTh, the ash tree | Tags: arts research, Bideford Black, eco art, Ecology, ecopsychology, Environmental art, Meditation, Nature, poetry | 1 Comment

of black and white i have become acquainted

shifting material tonality contextually alighting itself in emotion

the falcons’ tumbling play from the high hill cliff top nearby

between myself and the evening sun, i became blind

your overarching display tantamount to simple exquisite perfection

as well timed as it was

there is black

and there is black

there is white

and white

a way to describe

imperfectly

a fleeting perception of this place and that

of an occurrence personally experienced

a mere scribble by comparison

a fumbling juxtaposition

in the face of complexity

it will just have to do

it is all i have

beyond itself here

i do not wish to be spoon-fed

the spoon is soiled with black

a black arches awaits nightfall on white bathroom tiles

i have had another 5 minutes of fame

when will it end?

This morning I awoke to the sound of birdsong…

Posted: February 18, 2015 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: A BUNDLE OF STICKS, activ8 | Tags: arts research, Ecology, ecopsychology, Environmental art, Meditation, poetry | 4 Comments

This morning I awoke to the sound of birdsong drifting through dawn-lit windows

The small, humble things in life offering sustenance in this big, big world

Spring hath sprung…

“Curiously in amongst this plethora of Buddhism there was one token of Christianity – the autobiography of St Teresa of Lisieux. In spite of Tenzin Palmo’s antipathy to the Christian religion in general, she was drawn to the French saint who had entered a Carmelite nunnery when she was just fifteen and who had died at the age of twenty-four. She read her story several times and could quote from it at will.

‘The ironic thing is that the “little way” that she wrote about had nothing to do with the Way that I practiced. What I liked about her, however, was that she was very sensible. She sometimes slept through the church services and it did not worry her that she slept. God would have to accept her as she was! She never worried about her faults so long as her aspiration was right! She had this thing that she was like a small bird scratching around looking for seeds, glancing at the sun but not flying near it. She reasoned that she didn’t have to because the sun was shining even on a small being like a bird. Her whole attitude was very nice. She described herself as “a little flower” by the wayside which nobody sees but in its own self is very perfect as it is. And to me that is her primary message – that even in small, little ways we can be fulfilling our purpose and that in little things we can accomplish much.’[i]

(Drawings from recent experiments with compressed charcoal.)

[i] From Cave in the Snow by Vicki Mackenzie, the inspiring true story of how an English woman from the East in of London became a fully ordained Tibetan nun, spending 12 years in isolated meditation in a cave in the Himalayan foothills during the latter half of the 20^th Century.

Winter Butterfly 171214

Posted: December 17, 2014 | Author: pw130524 | Filed under: activ8, the ash tree, Uncategorized | Tags: art and science, arts research, Ecology, ecopsychology, Environmental art, Feeling, indigenous culture, Meditation, Nature, poetry | 1 Comment

Today I let a Peacock butterfly out of the window of my house. It is mid December but the weather is mild.

We have a number of butterflies – mainly Small Tortoiseshell (Aglais urticae) and Peacock (Aglais io) – who appear to hibernate in our house. When the weather is mild they wake up. I am never sure whether to let them out or not. Would staying in the house mean further hibernation or slow starvation as they flap helplessly against the windowpane? Letting them out into the changing weather can only mean certain death as their life force is drained by the cold and lack of nutrients from their natural food sources.

From childhood I was taught that a butterfly’s life lasts but one day, as it emerges from its chrysalis with shimmering wings, drinking briefly from its chosen flowery nectar, choosing a mate and exhausting itself in procreative fervour. This seems not so or at least not entirely accurate. I have read that the Painted Lady butterfly (Vanessa cardui) reaches British shores after a migratory flight from northern Africa and Spain, while obviously the Peacock and Small Tortoiseshell often spend a winter, at least, in dry dark sheltered roof spaces and cupboards before embarking on life once more.

As this butterfly flew out into the dim blustery day I wonder on how much more misinformation I have been fed during my formative years, and if this brief liberation, caused by my own puzzled intervention, was truly for the best…

expressions of an intimate ecology

the contemporary environmental art practice of peter ward

on being grounded…

and yet…

this climate emergency, part 2

it is like being told I am dying

this climate emergency, part 1

with sadness (and in love)

coming of age

more new paintings (and thoughts about my practice), summer 2017

simple tasks

of black and white 15815

This morning I awoke to the sound of birdsong…

Winter Butterfly 171214

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