After a short but decisive Eureka moment in the bath last night, I have destroyed the art I have been progressing on for the last month. It’s no easy thing to throw away a month’s work but I knew I could not continue with the negative frame of mind that I found myself in whilst looking at the thing. If I continued then I would be resigning myself to another few months of nihilism, depression, and rejection.
The choice is mine and the choice is right.
When I destroy work I usually rip it apart until there is nothing left. This is more a ceremonial procedure than anything. I have the only right to destroy the thing I have created so if I’m going to do it then I’m going to do it properly. As I tore apart the layers of this mess I felt a heavy weight lifting in my mind and an overwhelming sense of positivity filling my heart.
The fragments of what now remains fascinate me. The adhesives have bonded to themselves rather than the backing sheet so these fragments simply peeled off like a skin. Through my wanton destruction I have discovered something fragile and beautiful. These delicate pieces speak louder and more eloquently than anything the original art in progress was ever going to be able to say. They are like little scraps of an old manuscript washed ashore from an ocean of chaos in my mind.
I’ll be framing these remnants and considering if the method from this madness has potential in creating new little ‘skins’ of collage. Lots of questions are now forming in my mind which need answering. Ideas forming. Realizations dawning. Things are morphing, merging, altering, distorting. The focus is realigning. The control again is mine.