‘Mime’ by Sam Shendi.
“The art of showing a character or telling a story using body movements and gestures without words.”
This is the definition of ‘mime’ but it could also be a definition of my husband’s art work. Each piece telling a story. A visual cue. This piece might tell a story itself having just got back from being on display with Paul Smith in London during Frieze art fair week.
We are programmed, taught to read words and interpret but less so with picture, paintings and sculptures. It is interesting considering this when thinking about my boys, both extremely visual. One more of a ‘reader’ than the other but their comprehension high. We can read words forming pictures in our imaginations, perhaps it is more difficult to see art and then create our own stories and ideas. Always just needing that extra nudge or prompt to point us in the right direction. Last night after tea the boys were talking about what they could see in a large egg box tray ( we have gone through 25 eggs this week!) which was propped up against the radiator. They both saw different things, soldiers and feet and all sorts. Perhaps you and I would just see an egg box.
Wonder if that is the difference between the artist and the viewer?
At the beginning of the year I started a 30 day yoga challenge which I did successfully and have repeated it throughout this year. At the beginning of September I gave myself the challenge of compiling a book of my own poems and pictures of my husband’s sculptures as a gift for my Father who had been suggesting it for a while.
I was really pleased with the finish of it though it felt quite thin and made me understand the word ‘volume’ a little bit more. I have come to realise that challenge for me needs to have some external pressure.
At University I spent most of my time rowing and would rise to the early morning alarm to train which happened 7 days a week. When I think of the 2k and 5k races we would compete in off the blocks we had adrenaline and excitement to fule the first few strokes and then we would hit a wall, pain in the legs, pain in the chest and we would row through it. Aided and assisted by words like ‘Dig deep’ ‘Pull harder’ which our cox would yell at us, we would dig deep and we would keep going beyond the lactic acid build up. We would pull past other boats competing against them and drive ourselves forward. Perhaps this competition took all competitiveness out of me but since then I haven’t quite given myself the same kind of challenges. My little daily yoga or writing challenges have been small by comparrison.
However on Sunday I started a new challenge which though not physical like rowing seems a huge challenge at the moment amogst everything else which is going on, which I will get to. I have started the Nanowrimo challenge (National novel writing month) where you aim to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. I just happened to see an advert in a magazine for it and started to wonder if I was ready. I need this motivation but totally unplanned and unprepared I sat down on Sunday and wrote, thrilled I thought this was going to be easy but this was the adreneline and excitment out of the box. Second day I stalled. Conincidently, after being out of touch for a while my rowing cox, I discovered she is also doing this challenge and through the modern connectivity of technology is coxing me by email words of encouragement. So from a distance we are tapping away at the keyboards, scribbling out the words and so I prepare you for perhaps a more visual blog this month whilst my words get counted elsewhere.
The sculptor meanwhile on his own set of challenges, set by himself, in a very different way from my own, is preparing for his first solo exhibition this month in Munich. So we are busy getting lot of sculptures, paintings and words ready for this. So, if that wasn’t enough on our plate, to add something else to the pile of things to do in November and more immediately he is going down to Surrey tomorrow to deliver a talk. It has come around quicker than we expected having been in the diary for months. He is ready but yesterday I joked that I felt he was in denial about it. I always like using the word denial to the Egyptian, as I remember a friend making the pun about de’ Nile. Anyway, enough laughing we we’d better get ready, I am blatantly distracting myself from the novel and any preparation needed for tomorrow.