Tuesday, 2 September 2025

Drawing out from within

In 1945 farmers digging in the Upper Egyptian town of Nag Hammadi, discovered some long lost texts, that were found in unearthed ceramic jars. Amongst these texts were 114 supposedly secret sayings, that were attributed to Jesus. These short texts were about spiritual knowledge and they were understood to be from the Gospel of Thomas, a non-canonical text that is not in the Bible, but which scholars were aware of because of the existence of previously discovered fragments. However, this was a complete manuscript written in Coptic. Of these sayings perhaps the most well known is; "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you; if you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you".
For someone trying to visualise interoception, this phrase has often come to haunt me. Interoception is defined as the sense that allows us to perceive internal bodily sensations, such as emotional change, heart rate, respiration, hunger, and pain. It's often described as the body's "eighth sense," playing a crucial role in our moment-to-moment awareness of our physical state and influencing our emotions, self-regulation, and decision-making. 
Chen et al (2021) point out that definitions of interoception change and that they were initially to do with a creature's 'internal state', then by the mid 20th century it had become a way of referring to the dynamics of a body's homeostasis and only recently has it been seen as a communication process by which the nervous system both senses and integrates information about the inner state of the body.  They highlight 'the complex interplay between the brain and other organs necessary to monitor and regulate internal states'. (Ibid p. 4) 

The anatomical boundary that separates interoceptive from exteroceptive experiences has historically used the skin as a dividing border. Chen et al (2021) point out that interoception was focused on signals generated from within the body, sensations occurring below the skin, but as I have already become aware, it's not quite as simple as this, there being no clear division between internal and external realities. Even so, I like to feel that the images I make can 'get under your skin'.

Perhaps this is why that old Coptic text of St Thomas still strikes a chord in me. 

Although most of the current texts on introception rely on discoveries in neurology, as an artist, I'm still fascinated by psychology and its early acceptance of a subconscious/conscious dialogue. In fact the inner/outer duality of interoception/exteroception, stirs within me Surrealist yearnings and I'm prone to make responses to what I think I might be feeling, by relying more on instinct and chance than any sort of rational process.

The psychology of interoception works with body awareness and an ability or inability to use this awareness, can affect psychological issues related to mood and other emotional factors. The work I do in trying to help raise awareness of somatic feelings will hopefully help others enhance their ability to control emotional regulation and well-being, but I don't expect my art as such to change anything. The process of being involved and listening is probably the most important issue in relation to the fostering of wellbeing, the artworks themselves are stand alone entities, that emerge from a fusion of the process of listening and the process of image development. Part of the process therefore of an image's development, may well be therapeutic, but the final images are creatures in their own right, things that can carry whatever meanings they can, but they are not in themselves therapeutic images. 

I have been working with other artists to try and resolve some of these issues, as well as people who are not at all connected with the art world. Sometimes because of the close affinity I can feel with fellow practitioners, especially those that see drawing as fundamental to their practice, I can begin to see an almost epic dimension to the work. In conjunction with two artists that I have known for several years, I have recently been making much larger drawings, these are attempts to capture some of the essence of another person's life experience. We have spent some time preparing for the sessions, each artist making objects or drawings that can be shown alongside themselves, things that are used to animate the situation that we each draw from. The difficulty is we are all isolated from each other and we use the medium of the computer screen to communicate. We have though been doing this for a while now and we have tried a variety of ways to break through the barrier of the screen and try to 'touch' each other with our 'inner' as much as our 'outer' appearances. Above all we talk when it is our turn to be the subject. Conversation is such a wonderful thing, our sometimes awkward and at other times poetic attempt to put into words the things we are thinking and feeling, is right at the centre of what it is to be human. This alongside an eternal hope and expectation, that others will get some sort of awareness about our inner thoughts from a dialogic process. When you do this with people who are also practiced at another form of conversation, that of direct drawing from experience, the conversation is deepened. You are in the company of those that can feel the limitations of verbal conversation; as artists they of course value the poetry of communication, but they also, like myself, sense that so many things are unsaid, mainly because they can't be 'said' using words. We look at ourselves in the mirror and see a something that is as much the person inside as outside, our outward appearance a cypher that has to be decoded in order to engage with inner thought. A stance may indicate illness, mental state or environmental threat, the speed of a body's movement tells us so much about the physical and mental state that it encloses, the smoothness or erratic track of someone's hand gestures speaks silent volumes. 

Portrait of an Italian artist by an English artist: The inner and outer of an interoceputual experience

The three of us have recently been working on a particular project, focused on trying to extend previous ways of making portraits of each other and on my part, I have also been trying to re-define for myself what it is to make a portrait of another human being. This overlaps with the work I have been doing in the hospital, but in the protective bubble of artists communicating with other artists, I feel that I can begin to let go of my normal reserve and reveal aspects of myself that don't normally emerge in everyday life. I sense that that is also the case with my fellow artists. Perhaps this is art as a form of counselling, I don't know, but I do know that emotionally this is a very hard body of work to be engaged in and that it really stretches my ability to make emotionally resonant images.
 
Portrait of an English artist by an English artist: The inner and outer of an interoceputual experience

As I make the drawings, which are 5 feet (h) x 8 feet (w), I also photograph them and then make prints from the drawings, which are what I'm putting up for you to see on this blog. The prints are more screen friendly, I don't think the translation of large drawings into screen images works at all. The scale of the originals is such that you need to step up to them and then pull away, in order to get a sense of how they work. I'm also making all of the work done from the hospital available in digital print form, so that it is available to everyone concerned, patients and medical staff, and therefore I am becoming more attuned to the relative values of digital versus analogue imagery, seeing them both as capable of carrying feelings and emotional registers, but in very different ways.

An important issue is surface. The hand drawn initial images clearly show the traces of material changes and human interactions. There will be now dry water diluted coloured liquids, pen marks cut into the paper, areas of wiped away colour still holding a memory of the wiping in their stain, frozen brush strokes and fingerprints from when I have had to support myself as I have leaned over the drawing in order to make marks. The hand is remembered because the scale is one to one with the body, the paper size forming a flat theatre of possible re-enactment of every gesture made in the image's making. The digital version is very different, but as a print it carries a set of values compressed into a form that is equally powerful as a communicating surface. Paper and ink are fused together in a different way and if the right paper is chosen, (in this case Hahnemühle German Etching mould made paper and the inks all at maximum intensity, i.e. the printer is properly working and laying down colour as dictated by the digital colour files), the surface can be rich and seductive. Differences in handling in the original are now translated as changes in granular texture. The thickening and thinning of paint or ink as it moves across a surface can be captured by photography and tonal differences enhanced by using a digital filter that operates in the same way as now long discontinued lith film*. As this filter has only has black or white options it will produce a black and white granular texture as a translation of a smooth movement between light and dark. Therefore a brushstroke may now have a more three dimensional appearance or a new texture, due to the 'pushing' of the contrast. 

This way of working is a hangover from my time as a print technician. When I used to make silkscreen prints, I would often use what we called at that time, black and white 'lith' film', which came in rolls, so that it was large enough to make A1 size photographic exposures. Once made these positives of developed film were in effect 'burnt' by light into an emulsion that had been applied to the surface of the nylon screen, thus making a negative, through which ink would be squeegeed to make the positive on the paper that was to be printed on. 
High-contrast lithographic film was a specialised type of orthochromatic film designed for graphic arts to produce stark black-and-white images with maximum density and stark separation between tones, using a process that required careful control of developer strength. The film was specially produced for silkscreen printing, as any stencils; photographic, painted on or hand cut, had to allow for the printing of flat colours by pushing ink through a fine nylon screen. As technology moves on, it often carries memories of a previous technology embedded within it. For instance the first cars were at one point known as horseless carriages and their box like shape was a reflection of this. In a similar way the early filters designed for Photoshop, tended to reflect the types of photographic film and associated processes that existed before digital processing. 

I'll try and explain how I use this in the development of a digital print. In the detail taken from a hand made original below you can see the thickening and thinning of paint and inks, as well as tonal diversity. 

Detail of a large drawing

In the black and white image made from the detail above, a stark separation between tones has been achieved by using a 'stamp' filter on Photoshop. I have to decide the percentage of white to black, so I ask myself, do I need more black or more white in order to achieve the emotional effect I need? The most interesting textures are always those that evolve in the between areas, not clearly white or black and just as the old lith film did, this filter breaks down in-between areas in quite unpredictable ways. 

Image converted to black and white and using the 'stamp' filter in Photoshop

I can selectively highlight any area and make each selected component of the image darker or lighter, so may make four or five different black and white exposures and then collage them together to make a final textural layer. 

Once I have a surface similar to the one above, I can use this as a layer that can then be placed on top of coloured layers, often as in silkscreen printing, making the layers transparent, so that colours can both intensify each other and create often unexpected new colours as they overlay. I can then build the image up, layer on layer and as I do I can push some elements into the background, heighten others and remove anything that doesn't support the overall emotional tone. 

Detail of print

As you can see the final image made for print, is very different in surface feel to the original drawing. All the layers are compressed down before printing, their colour intensity when translated into ink, giving the image an impact that for myself, can be as powerful as the one made by the size and textual surface of the original drawing. Deciding dpi and output size is also of vital importance to the look of the final image. When printing these images, they are in effect squeezed out onto the paper surface and as they emerge back into daylight, this very compaction gives them a certain traction that allows them to stand up alongside images made in more traditional ways.

I have digressed I know into technical matters, but they are all a necessary part of the process of drawing out the interoceptual aspects of an experience. Technology is a vital aspect of drawing, a word that has ancient connections with the word 'drag', in the sense that you can drag a plow through the ground, thus scoring it, leaving a line of exposure as the earth is turned over to reveal the colour of the soil below. I am in effect trying to use drawing to drag out of myself and others, some sort of response to the feeling tone of interpersonal communication and whether this requires analogue or digital processes to do this, doesn't I feel matter, what does matter is whether or not some form of communication is made. 

Finally some thoughts about the drawing out from within that touch more upon the poetry of that inner/outer flow. In Philip K Dick's science fiction novel 'The Divine Invasion' he develops a wonderful description of what space and time is like for God like beings and I transcribed his description of a particular journey taken by one of God's prophets into my own words, in order to get some sort of traction on the poetic possibilities of a mind seeing both inside its own body and at the same time being able to escape the confines of a body and move out into the cosmos. This is what I wrote at the time when I attempted to imagine myself as one of Dick's characters:

My mind began to travel in an outside mode, my consciousness ceasing to be something, instead becoming a process, evolving into accretional layers, inhabiting a timescale of the outer world. From there or when, they are now both of one indivisible form, I could at last see the inside forms of my somatic body from another reality and as I rose above myself, I became a process of Hermetic transformation. I saw my body not as a mass but as transparent pictures permutating at an immense velocity, images made of forms outside of space, being fed into the body to become reality. As this image froze, time ceased. Slowly, by degrees a transformation began to take place, I saw outside of myself a pattern, the print of my own brain, I was within a world made up of my brain, with living information carried here and there like little rivers of shining red that were alive. I could reach out and touch my own thoughts in their original nature, before they became thoughts. Space filled with their fire, it stretched out, the volume of my own brain becoming external to myself. 
I now began to introject the outer world, so that it became contained within myself. Now having the universe inside me and my brain outside everywhere. My brain extended into vast spaces, far larger than the universe and I knew the extent of all things that were myself and because I had now incorporated this world I knew it and controlled it. 

What is within you, is also outside you; what you bring forth will both make you and disguise you.

References

Chen, W. G., Schloesser, D., Arensdorf, A. M., Simmons, J. M., Cui, C., Valentino, R., Gnadt, J. W., Nielsen, L., Hillaire-Clarke, C. S., Spruance, V., Horowitz, T. S., Vallejo, Y. F., & Langevin, H. M. (2021). The Emerging Science of Interoception: Sensing, Integrating, Interpreting, and Regulating Signals within the Self. Trends in neurosciences, 44(1), 3–16. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tins.2020.10.007

Dick, P. K. (1981, 2008) The Divine Invasion London: HarperCollins

Wednesday, 27 August 2025

Remembering Jimmie Durham

Jimmie Durham: Drawing

I first became aware of Jimmie Durham's drawings because there was an exhibition of them put on by kurimanzutto. kurimanzutto is a gallery that originally existed nomadically, adapting its form to the spaces needed by the projects it supported. It was dedicated to supporting contemporary art from Mexico, the gallery’s itinerant nature allowed it to organize shows in unconventional places, which in turn freed artists up to experiment with different kinds of projects. The gallery now has a more permanent space in Mexico, a space that for Durham gave him an opportunity to show drawings, which was for him, a chance to show work that he professed to be not very good at. 

The exhibition was composed of drawings made between 1989 and 2020. Many of these drawings sort of looked accidental, or more an exploration of drawing as a form of writing. They record interventions, often made on old discarded papers that had had a previous use and in this way, former narratives were allowed to continue, now read as traces or memories that existed between the cracks of Durham's interventions. 

Jimmie Durham on drawing

Durham states that it is impossible for him to use drawing to imitate reality. but in many ways he  disembles and in fact drawing was something he did throughout his career. It could be argued that he used drawing to record the processes of reality, rather than trying to document its appearance. Durham stated in relation to his drawing activities, “our civilization is basically made of scraps of paper, and we have too many that were used once and then became useless thereafter, as is most of our history, or as we wish it were ”.


Jimmy Durham: Smashing

One day I was in Glasgow visiting my daughter and I had a chance to go and see what was on at the then Glasgow Sculpture Studios. What was on was a film of Jimmy Durham, who was receiving objects given to him in a small office with a big desk. As he took these 'donations', he cursory examined them and then proceed to smash them up.

In his text ‘Creativity and the Social Process’, he stated that ‘our perception of the purpose of art, as we produce it, must be eminently practical’ (1993: p. 69) and that it should be produced in order to help people interpret their world so that they may be better able to change it in positive ways. (Ibid: 71).

Coming across Jimmy Durham in Glasgow was a welcome reminder that art can have a social purpose. Calling your work 'art' should I feel matter, and matter in terms of what sort of civilisation we live within and aspire to. Art I really think, matters and it can create this mattering through the weaving of the various entanglements it finds itself connected to. Hopefully, especially if the art is well made, it can be a transformational portal for those who wish to see the world as a dynamic process of universal creation. I have in a past post written about the etymological roots of our word 'art', pointing out that t
he Proto-Indo-European root of the word 'art' was the morpheme 'rt', which was associated with the dynamic processes of universal creation. Other words derived from ‘rt’ include right, rhetoric, worth, rite and ritual. 'Rt' was to do with ‘creation’ and ‘beauty’ as well as moral and aesthetic correctness; being concerned with what was 'right'. I always had a sense that Jimmy Durham was also concerned with what was 'right'. 

Jimmie Durham: Self portrait 1986

A 1986 self portrait drawing was made as a cut out outline, attached to it was a mask, supposedly of his own face, with synthetic hair, feathers and shells for ears. Written on his image is a greeting, “Hello I’m Jimmie Durham, I want to explain a few basic things about myself.” “My skin is not really this dark, but I am sure many Indians have coppery skin.” and “Indian penises are unusually large and colorful”.

I'm not sure he actually was of North American Indian heritage, but he definitely used the idea of the Indian to open up territories of thought. That was the thing about Jimmie Durham, you began to think he was one thing and then you decided maybe he wasn't. He often left you in the dark, on purpose and as he did, you wondered what was 'right' and 'wrong' about what was happening. 

Smashing is typical of Durham's critique of Western society and its obsession with the ownership of things. His work is often linked to his commitment to the recognition of Native Americans and the Civil Rights Movement. This initial focus then broadened to become a critical view of the hierarchical systems that govern society as a whole. In 'Smashing' he dressed as a civil servant and sat behind a desk. Then as people come into his 'office' and presented him with their things, he violently and systematically destroys each object. His actions when repeated over and over again, suggested a certain type of bureaucratic brutality, one that has often been employed by Western societies as a process that enables the powers that be to 'get their way'.

I sometimes despair over how our present society is constructing itself, sensing a return to fascism and as that happens there is correspondingly less and less interest in art. But I'm sure Durham also used to despair over whether or not his work ever affected anything or anybody. But when I was watching 'Smashing', I did feel a sense of righteous anger and relief that artists' works are still capable of making statements about what it feels like to be in a world that doesn't feel right. 

I recently read Fremeaux and Jordan's text, 'We are nature Defending Itself' and it is an excellent read if you are despondent and feeling that activism can never succeed when faced with the realities of the wider world. Finding alternative voices is important during a time when one voice seems to dominate everything. I do try hard not to despair and I hope I shall continue to try to find ways of making images that help myself and hopefully others find a more mythic connection with the cosmos, as well as to find glimpses of wonder in the everyday. If my small contribution can keep just a tiny fire burning, then all is not in vain and hope as they say, 'springs eternal'. 

A wing emerging from mud

In memory of Jimmie Bob Durham (July 10, 1940 – November 17, 2021)
 
References:

Durham, J. (1993) Creativity and the Social Process. In Durham, J.A. (ed.) Certain Lack of Coherence: Writings on Art and Cultural Politics, London, Kala Press, pp .69–71

Fremeaux, I. and Jordan, J., (2021) We are 'nature' Defending Itself: Entangling Art, Activism and Autonomous Zones. Pluto Press. 

See also: 



Wednesday, 20 August 2025

Witnesses of the invisible

Perhaps artists are meant to be witnesses of the invisible and that our role in society is to keep a door open to alternative possibilities. For instance, when the Pope died recently it did seem from what was said in his obituaries, that he had valued art as a vehicle that could both transcend boundaries and communicate to a wide audience. 

He also apparently thought that the artist could be a witness and that the work of art is a strong proof that incarnation is possible. I presumed he had believed that an artwork could embody or carry within itself an idea of the spiritual. By doing so, the artwork would then open out a possibility or doorway, through which a person could enter into an embodiment of the divine. Art becoming a passage or encounter, that can help someone to pass on from their every day materiality to a belief in a higher spirituality. 

Hilma af Klint

Georgia Houghton

Our present society does seem in need of a spiritual infusion. Some of the artists that have recently being brought back to our attention and have received critical acclaim perhaps reflect this need. Georgia Houghton was a British artist who, in the 1860s, began to produce automatic drawings, which she claimed were guided by spirits. Her watercolours and coloured pencil drawings are intricate and delicate, including complex geometric patterns interspersed with flower type forms. Although ignored during her lifetime she has recently been brought back into the attention of the art world, because researchers are looking to rebalance the art canon by finding more women artists but there has also been an upsurge in interest in artists that 'dared' to approach the spiritual seriously. Much of this research has been driven by the rediscovery of the work of Hilma af Klint. 

Georgia Houghton: Glory be to God: 1868

Agnes Pelton is another artist who has been re-discovered, her work is though much closer in sensibility to contemporary artists than the work of Houghton. 

Agnes Pelton: Winter 1933

Agnes Pelton: Star Gazer: 1929

I suspect her formal sensibility was as much one in tune with Disney as it was with the work of Madame Blavatsky. Even so her images still resonate as spiritual doorways. 

From Bambi: 1942

Walt Disney developed some totally non figurative scenes for Fantasia and his interests clearly overlap with the interests of several mystics from the time. The saturated colours that were typical of animation at the time and the abstracts were not that far away from those envisioned by Besant and Leadbeter in 'Thought Forms' 

From Fantasia: 1940
From 'Thought Forms' 1905

Lindsay Kokoska contemporary spiritual artist and AI user is typical of a new generation of creators who are seeking to provide art that supports this contemporary need. Although too 'cosmic' and cliched for my own taste, I can understand why her work is popular and it is fulfilling a need in a much more healthy way than the practices of some of the new wave religious movements or a return to the re-establishment of the old values of the Abrahamic religions, the followers of which are still creating havoc right across the world.  

Lindsay Kokoska

Kokoska's work is also inspired by visions of Quantum Entanglement and she creates immersive environments, within which you might practice yoga or meditate. 

Lindsay Kokoska

The recent Bodyscapes exhibition in Barcelona is an example of how a contemporary sensibility is developing in relation to these issues.

Christy Lee Rogers

Bodyscapes at the Load Gallery, looked at how artists approach the body not as an object, but as a mutable environment shaped by experience and emotions but perhaps more importantly it focused on artists using new technology and those providing immersive experiences. I was reminded of our historic use of glowing stained glass art within dark churches and the need to make candle lit images in caves.

Christy Lee Rogers

There is a tendency to poo poo these types of responses to our contemporary world as being naive but I'm personally reassured that at least there is an attempt to develop ways of working that acknowledge a spiritual need. I also think that it is no accident that all the artists in the Bodyscapes exhibition were like Hilma af Klint and Georgia Houghton women. The hard to acknowledge fact in the centre of this is for myself, a realisation that AI will become more and more present in every aspect of our lives. In this case it is AI that is driving the imagery of artists such as Lindsay Kokoska. It is reaching out into all of the cosmic imagery available and checking out at what speed to project movement, what sorts of colours to ensure a spiritual experience and as it does, whatever information is collected together is digitally remembered, so that if I wanted to, I too could access AI and ask for it to provide me with cosmic imagery designed to tap into our emotive need for spiritual nourishment. Is this the future? Will we in time simply ask an invisible interface to provide us with a spiritual experience and lo and behold, there it will be, all ready for us to step into? Is this too what we need to witness as artists?

The original people who have inhabited Australia for thousands of years have their own answer to a need for cosmic imagery. If you stare at the night sky long enough, you may begin to see what they saw. Especially if you live in the southern hemisphere where the stars cluster together with a magnificence never glimpsed in northern skies. 

The Emu and the Milky Way

One of the most familiar sights in the Southern night sky is the Milky Way, its dark body stretches the length of our awareness of the galaxy we belong to. In the stories of the original inhabitants of Australia, this shape is that of a gigantic Emu. The
 sky for them is not just a place for stars but is a reflection of the Earth, it holds stories and astronomical observations that remind the peoples that can communicate with it, of astronomical phenomena like eclipses, practical guidance for living such as the differences in climate associated with changes in the year and even as a map to guide directions for travel; these ancient knowledge systems being far more sophisticated that we often imagine.

An Aboriginal tale tells a story of the rage of the Brolga bird, who one day during an argument with emu over who's chicks were the most beautiful, in a temper picked up and hurled emu's egg into the sky. In those days the sky was the home of the cloud man and emu's egg smashed into his wood pile and as it did, it burst into flames, throwing light and warmth down to the earth below and the cloud man has let it burn ever since. We now call that old wood pile the sun. In such a tale everyday things are transformed into cosmic events, the more sophisticated we think we are, the less some of us see such moments of wonder, but if we are to stay attuned to the cosmos that surrounds us, we need to keep our minds open to alternative possibilities

See also:

Lindsa

Thursday, 14 August 2025

Drawing as research methodology

Overlapping areas of drawing research

I have been using drawing as research for some time and the process has gradually moved from using drawing as a research method, whereby I gather information and test out its implications in terms of what it can communicate, to using drawing as a more comprehensive research methodology.

Drawing has become integrated into the conceptual framework of my research and if I look back on this journey, it is the writing I undertook for the book 'Collective and Collaborative drawing in Contemporary Practice' for Cambridge Scholars publishing, that allowed me to think through how I used drawing both as a research method and as a research methodology. 

In the chapter I wrote for Cambridge Scholars, 'Drawing as a tool for shaping community experience into collective allegory', I set out to show how five related but separate drawing methodologies could be examined with regard to their capacity to foster different types of visual understanding. Traditional objective drawing was looked at in relation to its ability to not only document what was seen but as a method of conversational engagement, as well as a way of getting people to look again at what was very familiar to them. Drawing as imaginative play and image generation, was explored in relation to how visual narratives could be told and personal ideas expressed. Architectural illustration and associated technical drawing skills were examined for their potential uses as envisioning tools and as instruments for the communication of concrete realities. Map making was opened out as a tool for enabling effective community ownership of both real and imagined events, and as a way of ensuring location and orientation were embedded into an understanding of environment and place. Finally I looked at how all these various approaches could be brought together within large scale narrative drawings, that were designed around bent perspectives. I have since then been thinking much more about the role of the diagram as a way to shape our thinking, and how perceptual recording of visual experiences can demonstrate a more phenomenological understanding of our place in the world. The more approaches to drawing taken, the more I believe an intuited and nuanced understanding of the various subject matters carried by drawing can be developed. For instance my interest in how drawing can be used to visualise interoceptual experiences, can be linked to both a formal understanding of how a drawing communicates and the concept of embodied energy flows, as well as how non European understandings of embodied health can be integrated into developing drawing as a way to foster wellbeing.
The initial focus is for myself always on the visual (the drawing), however, these blog posts in particular have also allowed me to consider the broader implications and contexts of my drawing processes.

Drawing is so rich in its approaches to carrying ideas that I often find that I'm sliding together or overlapping various methodological layers. For instance the use of the insert.

Richard McGuire: 'Here'

Richard McGuire inserts frames within frames, stretching the conventions of the graphic novel, in order to develop a rich layering of time. This convention can though also be used to suggest another possibility, or to show a detail, as it enables an image to contain further information that stands alone and yet is always also related to the main concept.  

Cosmic tableware

For instance when I was developing ideas for tablecloths and tableware, such as the image above of a ceramic moon cheese dish and accompanying bowls, with black hole and stars tablecloth, I could put several aspects of the idea together in one image, in such a way that it also referenced the Grattan catalogues out of which my mother used to use to sell stuff to the neighbourhood, back in the 1960s. I began by putting these different items into frames, but then dropped them. They are in fact invisible, but still there. This all seems pretty obvious, but it was only when I put my thoughts together in this way that people 'got it' and I could then see if they wanted to proceed with supporting the idea. 

A map carries very different information. But it doesn't always have to be like an ordinance survey map. 

Map of Chapeltown: Pen and Ink on Fabriano roll.

This map of my locality, Chapeltown, was drawn by myself in order to communicate issues about how the streets are used as well as to show how large open spaces are adjacent to the densely populated streets. Bent perspectives also allowed me to bring into focus certain psychologically important moments, thus helping the viewer become engaged in different levels of attention. 

Idea for furniture/game

The map was later used as an idea embedded into a table type object that had a variety of purposes including being a space on which I would put an old fish tank that would be used as a container for electroplating the objects that would be moved around on its surface. (Only by following the link at the bottom of this post will this make sense.)

You can see that as a researcher I do have a problem. Research is supposed to begin with a clear understanding of how the methodology will be used, I should be able to draw on relevant theories related to visual methods and show how they will aid myself and others in a deeper understanding of my specific research topic. I tend instead to find that the drawings emerge from a muddle of doing and thinking and material conversations, only beginning to frame themselves up as coherent constructs, about halfway through their gestation. The table/map/game above was not thought through beforehand, it just emerged and only later could I see that it brought together several different strands of my thinking and once about in the studio, it then becomes another thing that can suggest itself as a component within something else, in the case of the table type object, this idea wasn't even being thought about at the time the initial map drawing was being made.

I'm now working making drawings with patients that I meet and talk to in a local hospital. I'm aware that at some point there will be a need to analyse not just the visual content of the drawings made, but also a need to reflect on the processes of creation, the contributions made by participants and the potential meanings embedded within the artworks made and how these are understood by the participants. Although I shall attempt to draw these things out and present them as a type of data, I am very aware that part of the process of my image gestation relies on an approach that encourages serendipity as an essential tool.

Another aspect of research methodology is interpretation. I should consider the drawings within the larger context of the research, perhaps drawing on participant reflections on the process, as a way to begin an engagement with a more objective awareness of the relationship between the languages of drawing and how artwork is embedded within wider social practices.  I might highlight the sub-group pre-occupation of being an artist and the related vocabulary I use to describe my work to others, and how this may manifest itself in an unequal power relationship with participants. This could enable me to highlight the way that discourse (all the languages in use, visual, written and verbal) shapes an understanding of the situation, influences social relations but hopefully also contributes to change, all of which could be part of a critical discourse analysis of this drawing led project.

For example: could I consider how my drawings could be used as a way to explore social representations, considering how participants might use the drawings made to express their perspectives and how these representations might be used to communicate with others. However, it is sometimes hard to summon up the energy to do this, especially as I am actually doing these things with real people; to then add another layer which is to document it all happening and to reflect on it, requires another burst of energy that I'm not sure I have.

My research methodology should hopefully embrace all these different things and allow for a deeper, more nuanced understanding of the visualisation of interoception and how others use it to understand the world. It should also have a specific theoretical perspective, a lens through which to understand the stuff I'm doing, something to guide my research and provide a framework for interpretation. However, my mind is like a butterfly, flitting and dancing all over the place, one minute I'm acting like a shaman and the next like a neurologist. Hopefully my approach
 can reveal insights that might not be accessible through traditional research methodologies, but I might have to give up trying to think that I can validate the trustworthiness of my findings, by using the approach that I take. I am in reality looking at a form of poetry as research, an approach that has to accept a lack of scientific validation. The muddle of entanglements that my work emerges out of, is I feel a more realistic situation than the supposedly 'objective' frameworks that are used within 'normal' research, art not being science, but it can be part of a communication process that leads to participants greater self awareness and a heightened feeling of wellbeing.

My current work also uses related but separate drawing methodologies, each one fostering a different type of visual understanding. Traditional objective drawing is used to communicate certain aspects of the situation that people may find themselves in. Rough sketches can be made alongside written notes in a notebook and a more technical drawing produced using Illustrator software much later. 

Wheelchair rough sketch

Wheelchair drawn in Illustrator 

For instance I may draw someone's wheelchair, or the bed they are in, their crutches or the way they sit or stand. Sometimes this is used to establish a narrative framework out of which other stories may emerge. In one case the drawing of a wheelchair was gradually faded out in subsequent drawings because the participant did not want to be defined as a wheelchair user. Figurative drawing has an ability to not only document what was seen but it can also act as a method of conversational engagement. 

A notebook drawing made as a reminder that someone could only move one arm

Drawing as imaginative play and image generation, is used to find visual languages to express what is not visible. For instance the level and type of pain someone is experiencing, or the emotional feelings that accompany an awareness of the situation someone finds themselves in. 

From a series of drawings trying to define how someone feels about their pain

Illustration as a drawing method is used to develop images that represent important symbolic issues for participants, for instance someone who used to be a very fit runner, wanted to show how that aspect of their lives still resonated with their current view of themselves and the image of an 'inner runner' was drawn as they mentioned it. The initial sketch made during a conversation was then used as a stimulus for the later image that was drawn using watercolour washes alongside pen and ink drawing and then scanned into Photoshop and finalised as a digital print. 

Initial note of a past running history

Looking for the inner runner: Worked up drawing, composed within Photoshop

Fragments of conversational story can be collected together as visual notes, then used later to stimulate the construction of a more powerful image. 

Recording a story

Recomposing some of the fragments in watercolour

Architectural illustration and associated technical drawing skills have been used as wider envisioning tools, to enable the communication of for instance how the resultant images could be embedded into an architectural setting, or put together as an exhibition. Body mapping has ensured that location and orientation of pain is clearly expressed as to its location within the body. 

Locating pain in relation to sitting in a wheelchair for a long time

Diagrams have been used to gain an idea of how the issues being unearthed are effecting wider narratives and charts, graphs and scales are used for representing certain aspects of pain visually, when having conversations with patients. 


The interoceptual body embedded into the world

All these various approaches can be brought together within large scale narrative drawings, or drawings for animation, and in particular I have become more and more aware of how drawing can demonstrate a phenomenological understanding of experience. The materiality of some drawings often giving a first clue as to how the image will need to be developed, something that can only work if the possibilities are 'listened to' and intuitively grasped, a process that is often more of a muddle than a research tool.

A pain chart, designed to help visualisation

The pain chart above is drawing in its most data holding form and like the overlapping areas of drawing research diagram that opens this post, is a constantly being updated thing. Each and everyone of these approaches, can become a research methodology, but when first used the approach may simply be a method. The slipping and sliding between methods and methodologies is a sort of research game that should I know be taken seriously, but as a maker I also see that all drawings start with a method and gradually as you become more and more involved with what that method can do, it becomes a methodology, but perhaps more intuitive than rational. 
 
Animation landscape in development

Coda

Since putting up this post I have read Derek Sayer's book, 'Making Trouble: Surrealism and the Human Sciences'. In this small book he reminds us that the Surrealists always insisted that their various practices were instruments of knowledge, rather than an artistic movement.  In their challenge to scientific rationality, a privileged Western European research method that they believed had led directly to the First World War, they developed ways of working that stepped outside of many of the research methodologies that I have been considering in the body of this post. At one point in the book, Sayer says this of the Surrealists and their fellow travellers; I paraphrase, "None would have been seen dead following the painting-by-numbers recipe for knowledge production that is recommended by the United Kingdom's national funding agency for research in the social sciences." 
He sets out the questions applicants for research grant funding need to consider and finds it curious that the ESRC expects so many things to have been thought through before beginning research. The fact that research should uncover the unforeseen, originate new hypotheses and celebrate the serendipity component of life seems to have been lost. For those hoping to receive the 'blessings of serendipity' as he puts it (p.4), one needs to cultivate the 'receptive eye' (ibid) and that research should upset preconceptions and expectations. Sayer also reminds us of the Shandean Method, which is not a method, but of which there is a graphic depiction of in Book VI, Chapter XL of Tristan Shandy.

From Tristan Shandy by Laurence Sterne

Sterne approached the writing of his wonderful book in this way, 

"That of all the several ways of beginning a book that are now in practice throughout the known world, I am confident that my own way of doing it is the best - I'm sure it is the most religious, - for I begin with writing the first sentence, - and trusting to Almighty God for the second."

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