Visual Art: a Mirror for Our Collective Consciousness
This is an adapted English version of the original article (in Chinese)
Written by Jayce Pei Yu Lee 李珮玉／Crystal C.Y. Huang 黃秋燕
Edited and adapted by: Rachel Hentsch
A leaf skeleton I once found and photographed, together with Leonard Cohen’s sentence, inspired me to pen the following short poem, which I named “The Beauty of Aging”:
Time does not seek perfection
In the “broken” moonlight
Allow light to pass through
The shadow fades
Without the favor of darkness
Where is the desire for light?
Visual Art as a Manifestation of the Field
Imagine for a moment the scene of a dialogue, various propositions and inquiries come and go. Different tones and gestures flow into the field, tangible and intangible, conscious and unconscious. Now, imagine a visual artist uses their hand and pen to surface this process in front of everyone, making visible what they are hearing and feeling as the dialogue unfolds. What kind of possibilities does this open up? What new insights can it bring to the participants in the field?
If we envision visual metaphors as being like “pollen” in the social field, as described by Kelvy Bird in a recent interview, when visual artists can truly tune into the flow of the conversation taking place, the state of the social field will be revealed beyond the artefact — beyond the visual creation itself. The artist, in connecting with the social field, co-creates with all the people participating in the field, and even beyond: observation and participation are like pollen, and the participants are like bees. The resonance will perhaps then even ripple out into other spaces, such that the vitality of the work can leave a mark elsewhere also.
Scribing: a Form of Visual Practice
In the introduction to her book “Generative Scribing: A Social Art of the 21st Century”, Kelvy Bird writes: “Scribing (…) is a visual practice. An artist maps out ideas while people talk, and they can see a picture unfold right before their eyes. The drawing establishes connections within content, aids with insight, and supports decision-making. It’s essentially a language that weaves words and pictures to facilitate group learning and cultural memory.”
In tracing back the origins and story of scribing as a discipline, Kelvy notes that compared with other approaches to creating art, scribing embeds a sense of time and a “harkening back to something primordial, something that seems timeless and lasting, something that provides a service that cuts across any one lifetime”. Scribing, for me, is like creating a bird’s-eye view of the earth, pushing our perspective and imagination beyond the boundaries of the finite.
The Social Significance and Value of Scribing
Open, see, connect, perceive, create
Me and us.
What is most important to you?
What is the message behind the message that we are all concerned about?
From personal, family and life,
To work, organization and society.
What needs to be collectively perceived and seen together?
How do we visualize that content,
To nourish those important things that are so hard to remember?
— by Scribe and Visual Practitioner: Ripley Lin
Kelvy Bird in her interview addresses the social significance of scribing and speaks about how drawings can really shift our awareness, our “fundamental way of being, our deeper humanity, and how we come together as human beings and a species on this planet.”
Therefore, my belief is that the cultivation of our inner state is the homework of a professional scribe. The art created will be a reflection of our skill as a scribe, depending on whether the artefact can truly mirror the energies of the social field, mapping out and manifesting both the visible and invisible fields, including the scribe’s own self as an integral part of the system.
For me the significance of scribing is also about activating social groups from the state of “knowing” towards a posture of “action”. We often analyze how art touches people or how it may make them feel, but few people seem to ask: “How does art affect and inspire action?” That’s why for me scribing has such a power to influence, because it is not only about feelings, but also about moving into action. Kelvy eloquently describes it thus: “Scribing is “a combination of feeling and doing… not just on my part, but on the part of anyone in the social field from which the work originated.”
As scribes, we are in the field, whether it is of life, work, business, or society. We are like divers in the deep sea: our marker is our flashlight, illuminating the waters, and we swim into the unknown to explore possibility.
Scribing for me is also about crystallizing three-dimensional existence and dynamics. The text, composition and color in the picture are constantly superimposed via different timelines, which means that scribing is subject to aesthetic needs and opportunities. If the work touches people’s hearts and souls, its effect will not be lost in the passing of time, but will continue to weave and echo and quietly shape the future path of life. That is how I like to think of the subtle power of scribing.
The Training of a Scribe
We are in an era full of changes and crises. In this moment of accentuated conflicts, communication gaps and deep social and political divisions, no one can remain unaffected. The next generation will experience the future created by you and me. As a scribe and visual practitioner, I ask myself: “How can we connect our hearts and collective wisdom, dialogue after dialogue, and visually manifest the tiny voices in the system? What kind of imprint is it in my capacity to leave in this world, for my contemporaries and for the next generation?”
A scribe needs time to refine his or her capabilities. In addition to technical ability, the inner state and the ability to listen are extremely important. We try to deconstruct and explore visual practice, investigating what it means to surf the unknown, whilst fostering a sense of participation.
Scribing is a unique form of visual expression that integrates observation, listening, and intuitive perception. It somehow pulls together the various disciplines of note-taking, visual recording, and visual mapping. It aims to provide awareness for the self and the collective.
I have recently been inspired by Taiwanese musician and producer Jonathan Lee’s reflections, he says:“There are many things in life that you can’t rush, you have to wait for them to ripen” and “the Work is yourself.” I also believe in letting oneself live in the present and focusing on every moment. The journey of scribing for me is a journey of cultivating our inner state of being. Let the act of picking up a pen become a life experience, where society and art are integrated. May you and I be clear in our mission, and support each other’s practical skills. Heart, awaken the inner ingenuity, walk into the unknown with a sense of improvisation, and leap into the blue ocean of craftsmanship!
Icebergs teach us that ten percent is what’s visible above the water surface and ninety percent lies below the waterline. Underneath are the key areas that shape our character and style. Our Being is also part of the picture. Through deep listening, we can meet the unknown, discover the rhythm and energy in the visual creation, leverage the power in the field to connect with the world, allowing the flow of intuition. Are we bold enough to capture the authenticity of the experience, explore the depths of listening, perceive what is coming to our canvas, reflect on the decisions we make, sense the edges of the system and what wants to emerge?
In the fast-changing life journey, how can we adapt to the sense of abundance brought about by pausing and slowing down, letting the imagination develop freely, ignited and activated through different perspectives and expressions? We scribes are dancing with the birthing process of the image; pushing ourselves to the edges of the known; allowing for and holding discomfort; trusting our innate and endless source of creativity. And as we remain open in the dizziness of all possibility, instant experience and bright ideas will pierce through like a beam, whispering: “Hey, I’ve been here all along.”
