ESSAY TWENTY - OUR ARTISTIC MEMORY

In the previous essay, I suggested that there might be two types of memory. The everyday type of memory that is first developed in our very early years and refined in school has many uses, but it is also misunderstood. It is great for recalling past data or processes, but it is not very effective in what we think as “problem solving”. Because this memory deals with data already learned, it can limit us from “thinking outside of the box”. It has been observed many times, that if a hammer is the only tool you have, everything looks like a nail. The other memory, which I referred to as Psychic Memory, is harder to quantify, but it can be a powerful tool, especially for the artist.

One way of differentiating the two types is to draw an analogy. In a much earlier essay, we talked about analytical learning styles, which is the logical, linear type of instruction/learning featured in schools and vocational training programs. In a less formally structured way, this type of “problem solving” progresses from a myriad of small data bits, which we then form into larger cognitive structures called information (instead of data). When enough information is available, a strategy or plan of action can be formed, and we are able to move towards a solution or a mental framework that makes “sense” of the problem we face. As this process occurs, our conscious, aware, mind constantly scans the process, fine-tuning and directing it towards ever more precise and detailed conclusions. If successful, we can feel that we have solved the problem that was presented, and we have been active in and aware of the entire process.

The second form of memory, or psychic memory operates much more like intuitive learning and decision-making than it does analytical learning. When we utilize intuitive problem solving, on some preconscious level we may be collecting and storing data, but the type and the scope of the data collected is not a completely conscious activity, nor is it consciously direct. Unlike analytical problem solving, during which we are actively collecting as much information as possible, intuitive data gathering takes place outside of our active and focused control. Wandering, daydreaming, “wool gathering” and moments of relaxed and unfocused meditation are the fertile grounds for building a reservoir of intuitive data. Rather than an active quest, it is a passive quest – remember, “All Who Wander Are Not Lost”.

As the data is processed, and often right up to the moment of “intuitive insight” (or decision making), much of the intellectual processing takes place “out of sight” of our conscious awareness. While we may be aware of our sudden insight, (the light bulb going on over our head) we may not have any idea at all, as to how we arrived at this inspiration.

Just as in Intuitive learning, psychic memory has a similar manifestation. The process, the orientation and the mechanisms by which it works are not usually visible to our mind’s eye, but we can train ourselves to be aware of the results, and to understand their implications for us. Most importantly, we can develop an attitude that recognizes intuition as a strength that is the equal of analysis. For working artists, psychic memory has the potential to be a fertile field, and one that can produce a bountiful harvest.

Before continuing, this psychic memory that I have mentioned is just a hypothesis, but one that seems to explain a great deal. It is clear that our personality, attitudes, mind-set and approach to everything we do in life is unique and highly individualized. It affects the way we think, what we value, and probably how we live our lives. It is also clear that this unique set of personal traits is set by environment (or life forces) at least as much (if not more than) genetic and biological determinism. The assumption that I will be making is that one of the external factors that help us form our “selfness” is psychic memory.

They are our cumulative memories and awareness’s of persons, places, incidents and ideas that became one of our psychological building blocks. Why one memory is more important than another and how a particular memory accomplishes its impact is unknown. There are, however, some good reasons to feel that this does take place and significantly, it opens up some productive artistic avenues. Psychic Memory is not the type of memory to be preserved and then accessed for our usable memory bank. It is a memory more deeply buried, which serves as a marker or beacon, illuminating a psychic intersection. Just as a highway intersection represents a set of choices, our psychic intersections are decision points in our development – they are moments when we made a “choice” about who we are or who we were about to become. The memories associated with and linked to these “moments of truth” are powerful and laden with creative insights for us to explore.

In Essays Thirteen through Sixteen, we discussed Image Stories, which I described as personal stories that are always tickling our consciousness and seem to be with us on a regular basis. While superficially they do not seem to be memories of great importance, they evidence a power and a hold on our awareness. My premise is that our Image Stories are created and nurtured by our Psychic Memory and as artists, we need to not only honor them but to use them in our creative process. The following essays will deal with utilizing Images, Stories and ideas from your Psychic Memory. As always, feel free to leave comments or to e-mail me directly with ideas, suggestions or reactions.

ART QUEST ESSAY FOUR – ART ASKS, SCIENCE ANSWERS

In the previous essay, I equated the creative energy as being very similar to the energy of a child at play.  The kind of uninhibited, spontaneous play that exalts in the passion and freedom of physical, mental and spiritual freedom (lots of yelling and laughter probably doesn’t hurt).  Please note, I have resisted the temptation to try to specifically define creativity (definition is an intellectual process at best), and have satisfied myself with merely illustrating creativity in action.  I have a hunch it is similar to the Supreme Court Justice who once observed that it seemed to be very difficult to precisely define pornography, but most of us can pretty easily recognize it when we see it.  Unfortunately, for the law, precise definitions are important, but as artists, hair splitting will get us nowhere.

I also mentioned that as adults, we attempt to learn to be artists, and we hope to learn the creative process.  Although I taught art for well over thirty years, I would like to suggest that we would accomplish more if we worked at discovering instead of learning.  The two words are quite different.  Discovery is an active process, engaged in inquisitively, while learning is often the result of someone else presenting you with what they feel you should know. 

We should be working upon discovering our former childlike joy at giving sound, form, and substance to our inner dreams, but unfortunately, if you visit the average adult arts class you won’t encounter much joyful, active, noisy creativity.  Behaviorally, the class will probably appear more similar to a tenth grade civics class than to a second grade recess.

Something to consider.  Throughout history, we can observe that there have been two elements present in virtually every culture that the archeologists have uncovered - visual art and spirituality (religion).  Not only are they always present, they are almost always closely linked, and often the bond is unbreakable.  Almost all art from the past has strong ties to a religious/spiritual/divine viewpoint, and conversely, much of what we know about historic religious belief comes from their art.  In all likelihood, it was not just visual art but also dance, song and storytelling, but those arts don’t always pass down through time as well as the visual.

There is an interesting possibility that our need to express ourselves spiritually as well as artistically may indeed come out of the same human framework or desire - they may well be different aspects or projections of the same primal force in human nature.  Both exist to provide symbolic and broad views of the mysteries and powers that lie all around us, and both attempt to forge links that help us understand the non-understandable.  They provide a bridge between the sacred and profane.  Unlike science which must be based upon a careful examination of the facts and data available, art and faith leap beyond science’s reach, and through the use of imagination and a connection to the spiritual (are they really different?) propel us into and through the unknown. 

The function of science has always been to answer questions.  It collects verifiable data, subjects it to analysis, and then uses that process to explain and quantify our world.  It is not a collection of “maybes”, or “I wonders”, but information and knowledge that we can use in a practical and efficient manner.  Art, on the other hand, has always dealt with the mystical, and specializes in asking questions and pointing in new and perhaps improbable directions.  If my art offers any answers at all, it tells you what I am thinking about, what is fearful or mystical, what puzzles me and what makes my pulse race and my heart pound.  Art’s voice is the sound of the spirit and the soul made audible.

To paraphrase the above paragraph, Science answers questions, Art asks questions.  We will return to this concept several times in later essays.

In the past hundred years, art has moved strongly in the direction of self-expression and self-fulfillment, and towards portraying the artist as a unique individual, and at the same time, shed most of its links with obvious, monotheistic religion.  Personal creativity has become a widely held value in our culture, and the creative artist personifies that value.  It is one of the few opportunities most of us will have to consciously and with full awareness conceive, develop and to present to the world a creative and unique gift.  The production of art allows you to give a small piece of your soul to people who otherwise might not even know you exist.  You have created that which never was, and, unlike your job or your hobbies, that creation could only have come from you, nobody else could have taken your place.  If it weren’t for you, your art would never have been born, and now you have contributed to your posterity.  Life is short, art is long.  What will you give to eternity?

I welcome any comments, suggestions or criticisms you may have about my writing, Feel free to leave comments or e-mail me: bobsouvorin@mindspring.com