Showing posts with label votives. Show all posts
Showing posts with label votives. Show all posts

Saturday, 11 October 2025

From making votives to visualising Interoception

Image from a visualising interoception workshop

Stress influences the way we perceive pain. Our worry associated with pain, especially if the pain is long lasting, can make it worse. There is a feedback loop that will eventually lead to anxiety and depression and it is this feedback loop that I am hoping to break when I work with people who have experienced severe pain. 

Making votives alerted me to the fact that rituals and objects associated with them could be used to take away the pain or distress associated with a difficult experience. A votive materialises a thought, it congeals around a feeling and gives it literal weight. Once objectified, the votive releases the feeling from the person and can pass it on, become a holder for it or become a channel for the intervention of a higher power. The psychology of the situation involves the release of the trauma from the person who is suffering and 'takes their mind off it', as one of the people I was working with put it. 

Votive made for someone with chronic lung problems

Making votives led me to have to devise rituals for their use. However I didn't take that aspect of the work seriously, until by chance I met John Fox and Sue Gill, of Welfare State International and when John Fox saw what I was doing he wondered if I could extend the votive idea into rituals for funerals, something he and Sue Gill had been doing for some time. I was somewhat in awe of them, as I knew of the amazing work they had done over the years and was honoured to feel that John thought what I was doing interesting. Their 'Dead Good Guides' are designed to work in real situations and to show how art can be seamlessly integrated into the lives of everyone. I never did get to show him what I came up with, because he died not long after our meeting, but he had impelled me to move my work on and to really think about how and why my work should be more available and accessible to everyone, not just people from the art world. Not long after meeting John I had to attend a funeral of someone who had been cremated and it was obvious that people didn't really know what to do with the ashes. So my first venture into the territory was to think about rituals and associated objects, that might help people come to terms with the problem of how to dispose of someone's ashes.

Sketchbook page used to communicate the idea


Votives made to hold a body's ashes after cremation

The shell-like objects above are made very simply using pinched clay, which is then fired. Although I made these, the idea is that they should either be made well beforehand by someone before they die, or in response to a post funeral need, by a close relative or friend. Making small objects like these with your hands is an easy thing to do and the process solidifies imprints of every maker's fingertips into each object. Designed so that they can be easily pushed into the earth like a seed pod, they are closed with sealing wax or modelling wax to keep the ashes in. You can also make these seed or shell like shapes in the form of a necklace. One aspect of a pre-ritual workshop is to get the people involved to agree how these objects will be used. The more religious will perhaps want to use them like traditional votives, whereby a candle is lit and prayers said. If so these ash containers can be made into candle holders or have a wick inserted into their hollow insides. Mourners may want to add specific elements that remind them of the person who they wish to celebrate; before they release their relative or friend back into the earth or waters they came from. The more that people get involved the better. 

The ritual of letting go: Skimming votives off into the water

Ceramic votive in the form of a skimming stone filled with ash and sealed.

Another form these ritual objects can take, is that of skimming stones. Again made out of fired clay, two shallow concave forms are put together to make a 'skimming stone'. A hole is left in one side which allows ashes to be inserted and once that has been done, again wax is used to seal the hole, before the final ritual skimming of the ashes out into a lake, river or sea. 

From a sketchbook page used to communicate the idea

The work with votives always involves a drawing led conversation and that conversation leads to the visualisation of a desire or need. This is very emotional. The study of interoception grew out of this work and it has made me very aware that emotions are built within the body, that they are physiological responses to both interior and exterior change. When trying to visualise somatic awareness, I have begun gradually to build up a language of forms that have emerged from both workshops and one-to-one drawing conversations; conversations that are centred on the correspondent agreeing that it is possible to develop an image of their feelings, in a not too dissimilar way to how a police artist would sit with an observer of a crime and work with them to construct an identikit image of the perpetrator. Is it more like this...or like this...? The good thing about this approach is that the person involved doesn't need to know anything about art, they just need to make basic yes/no decisions. 

Which of these two drawings is more like the feeling you are trying to describe?

We often start with a simple comparison drawing such as the one above. Then rough drawings are made as the patient begins to open out about what they feel and we begin to sort out what is possible. 




Initial drawings done during a first meeting

Where is the feeling located?

Then we move on to where is it located in the body. Once I think I have enough information, I take the drawings back to the studio and then work them up. They are then scanned and turned into digital images and printed off. I bring these back to the hospital a week later and these images then become what is critiqued by the patient and ideas as to colour and its effect are developed. 

Annotated images developed with two different patients

As conversations move on I often get to visualise concepts such as how pain moves through the body. Typically this is described by participants as being like a zigzag of lightening. In the case of the image below I was asked to imagine a field of lightening that was also like a spider's web.

An idea worked up as a digital print

The final stages often require several changes, especially as colour is such an emotive aspect of visual language. At this stage images are digitally developed using Photoshop, which allows changes to be kept, because sometimes the patient wants me to take the image back to an earlier stage and it is so much easier to change colours. The digital version also allows me to print off copies for the patient to keep and they can be shown to other interested people.  

Image with annotations as reminders of the story behind it

The final image

Although I hadn't consciously tried to predict the visual shape of the final outcome, in several cases I realised that because we were dealing with the visualisation of normally hidden feelings, that this was not that dissimilar to visualising hidden energies. Patients would talk about the release of an electric charge within their body, or waves of emotion, descriptions that reminded me of the way that earlier researchers had described what they were discovering when they attempted to visualise invisible energies, such as the Odic force.*

In my own work, whereby I tried to visualise personal somatic experiences, such as a difficulty I had breathing due to covid19, I had also sensed that I needed to visualise a certain flow of energy, in this case how it was compacted and then released due to a blockage. 

The moment of a breath breaking into the lungs from a previously closed throat

My academic research has over the last few years looked into earlier attempts to visualise hidden or invisible forces. Initially I looked at visualisations that were the products of quasi-religious thinkers associated with Theosophy, partly because I knew that their work had influenced artists such as Kandinsky and Klee. However I gradually found more scientific thinkers and as I looked into their theories, I began to feel that there was a real need for a belief system that could explain why we feel as if there is something mystical about the universe. 

When researching older areas of esoteric thinking, that have now being debunked by science, such as geometrical psychology, Rayonism and other para-scientific theories, I began to see certain common beliefs, that might not have stood the test of time, but which do reflect an intuitive set of feelings that point to some sort of vibrational understanding of our reality. 

Visualisation of Chakras: From Leadbeater

The idea of chakras, the concept of body auras or the captured energy fields as seen in the work of Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc and the shapes of thought forms, are all attempts to visualise the invisible energies that flow through our bodies. Both colour and sound are vibrational energies and there are many examples of how sound can calm the soul and although the research surrounding colour theory is far less clear in terms of how effective colour can be in creating or changing mood, I have no doubt that colour's vibrational energy does effect emotional change. However after working with a wide range of people, I now realise that colour response is very personal and that it is not something that effects everyone's emotions in the same way.  But that doesn't mean I cant use it, in fact because it is so personal, it opens a door for idiosyncratic visual responses to deep inter-personal communication and one-to-one conversations, which is where most of my work is initiated. I don't though normally have to agree with someone else if my imagery is communicating. Outside of the work in the hospital, I am free to take the imagery wherever I feel it needs to go. The construction of meaningful to myself colour communications has become an essential aspect of my recent work and although colour is hard to pin down, so are emotions and the more I go on to work in this area, the more I feel that it is in the struggle to find an authentic colour voice for a feeling, that I will find a something that allows me to communicate whatever it is that I need to communicate. 

This image emerged from conversations about poor circulation in a leg

In my drawing conversations with people I often hear that they feel anxious, a state of mind that in Chinese culture is sometimes understood as a type of inner body chaos, or the blowing of 'internal winds' and sometimes their descriptions of the internal state of their bodies are less like a medical anatomy diagram and more like an immersion into a strange landscape or contact with alien energies. In Chinese medicine, our bodies are regarded as elements of and inseparable from, the natural world. We are an embodiment of the Earth and the Universe, the patterns of internal change that occur in our bodies, resonate with the external forms of landscape. All are manifestations of the universal Qi, the “substratum of the cosmos,” the essential quality of being, that I personally think of as another type of underlying vibration. 

An animation of an inner body form 

Each of these understandings allows me to develop imagery. By working with a range of overlapping viewpoints I can cross fertilise ideas and allow myself the luxury of imaginative play, whereby I 'freeform' with the visual elements that I have surrounded myself with in the studio and play with various interconnections as they reveal themselves.

The more I work with others, the better prepared I am to set up workshops designed to help people develop their personal interoceptual visual language. These workshops have often involved communicating the things learnt during my one-to-one drawing conversation sessions. I work with people in pairs, helping them to respond to each other's growing awareness of a chosen interoceptual feeling. People often chose a painful experience to try to visualise, but someone in a group will quickly realise that it could be a pleasurable feeling or a very different feeling, such as one that gives you goose bumps, that could be explored. I always encourage this as my research is about the benefits of a wider awareness of interoception than just pain. Craig, in his article 'How do you feel?', a paper that he went on to develop as an excellent book with the same title, points to an awareness of interoception being central to our feelings of being alive and that it is essential to our development of a subjective image of our sentient selves across time. He demonstrates how important interoceptual feelings are and shows how they are inseparable from the way the body knows itself and that emotions are inextricably linked to everything from muscle tone, to a need to go to the toilet. I'm writing this post from a hotel bedroom in Gothenburg in Sweden, having just spent the last three days at a conference devoted to the current medical understanding of issues related to spinal injuries. I sat and drew during several presentations and as the conference went on, I found myself coming to another visual conclusion about the inner body, one more to do with dendritic shaped fibrous growth at the scale of microscopic neurons. I think this was because I had been reading Craig's book and he looks at the evolutionary history of our nervous systems. He welds together ideas about both physical and mental feelings being transmitted to the brain; in such a way that I have an image in my mind of an emotive feeling being no different to a feeling of coldness, when it comes to an electrical signal, carried by neurons and stimulating the brain to make a decision about an action. I also began drawing mice and monkeys, perhaps to make sure I did not forget how grateful we should be to their contributions to spinal injury research. When I draw a monkey, it is a substitution for myself, an image that reminds me I am an animal also. I do realise that without the research that is done we would not be able to further our knowledge but I hope that when animals are used great care is taken to treat them with respect and to minimalise their discomfort and pain. 

Notebook page

In their book, 'Your Brain on Art', Magsamen and Ross use the term 'neuroarts', which is defined as 'the study of how the arts and aesthetic experiences measurably change the body, brain, and behaviour.' When highlighting art's effect on pain awareness and how it can shape it, they state in relation to people interacting with an art form, (2025, p. 37), 'The physical pain may still exist, but how they emotionally relate to that pain has changed'. It is the visualisation of both a change in emotional relationship and an awareness that the physical nature of our insides is intertwined with these emotional changes, that I hope to continue to develop my art practice out of. It takes me into the unknown, which is where as an artist I need to be, but not only that it gives me an audience that perhaps for the first time begin to see that shapes and forms might actually carry information and communicate it in ways that they had never previously noticed. 

However I'm also still probing around at that old problem, of how in making an image do you represent a feeling of being alive? In German there is a term 'zitterbewegung', a sense of vibrating, oscillating energies, that is often associated with quantum mechanics, a term I quite like as it deals with things we cant see, but which need to happen if the things we can see are to behave in ways that result in the world appearing to be as it does. The hidden processes that go on inside our bodies are for myself similar, if they go wrong, the outward appearance of the external body is also changed, another tied together set of happenings. 

The making of an animation based on a feeling of the body as a landscape, is one approach I am taking to the visualisation of inner and outer somatic interrelationships, hoping that after watching it, someone might be able to put their own inner body feelings into action and thus begin their own journey to externalise feelings. As well as exploring how some existing interoceptual visualisations of inner body forms could be animated, I've been looking at Faraday wave phenomena, another aspect of vibrational energy depiction, that I've intuitively linked to a personal understanding of the work of Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc. 

Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc: Iconography obtained without light, electricity or photographic apparatus, due to the right hand of Dr. M. Adam

Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc and Dr. M. Adam, must have at one point in time conjoined to produce the image above. Their activities were I'm sure serious and purposeful and I would like to think that they felt that they had seen something special related to the invisible nature of our existence. They may even have found a way to visualise dark matter, not that it matters, what does matter for myself is the never ending journey of enquiry that as a species we continue to go on, each generation trying in its own way to find ways to visualise those things that we cant see, but which underpin everything that we do.   

The old lungs in action

Recent attempts to make images based on a feeling have been made in response to my own asthma. That harsh rasping feel of lungs struggling is one I know well, but to make an image of it is challenging. This time I have tried to think more about spatial aspects and have looked at stretch, perspective and our sense of vertigo when we are too high up and looking down. I never quite get it right, but each time I try something emerges and as it does it adds to the iconography of inner body speculation. 

• The Odic force was a hypothetical energy or life force, proposed in the 19th century by Baron Carl von Reichenbach. Named after the Norse god Odin, it was believed to be a pervasive energy that permeated all living things and could be influenced by other invisible forces such as magnetism, electricity and sunlight.

References

Craig, A. How do you feel? Interoception: the sense of the physiological condition of the body. Nat Rev Neurosci 3, 655–666 (2002). https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn894

Craig, A. (2014) How Do You Feel?: An Interoceptive Moment with Your Neurobiological Self London: Princeton University Press

Magsamen, S. and Ross, I. (2025) Your Brain on Art: How the arts transform us Edinburgh: Canongate

Baraduc, H. (1913) The Human Soul: Its Movements, Its Lights, and the Iconography of the Fluidic Invisible Paris: Librairie Internationale de la Pensée Nouvelle*

* In his book 'The Human Soul' Baraduc describes something he calls the 'fluidic invisible' or 'Odic liquid'.  We in effect swim in an invisible sea named by Baraduc, 'Somod'. The link above is hopefully still live and you will find images of his exposed photographic plates at the end of the book.

Monday, 1 January 2024

Wearable objects and Curative Things

In my first few posts of the new year I want to reflect on directions I am trying to establish for my forthcoming work. One of several strands I want to look at, is to explore various ways to miniaturise my ideas and I will try to use a variety of manufacturing techniques both commercial and hand made, to bring ideas to fruition. A while ago I looked at developing designs for tattoos, and I will hopefully be revisiting those ideas as well. 
 
Bracelet with votive images

I have written a chapter for the Palgrave studies in fashion and the body, for the book, 'Wearable Objects and Curative Things: Materialist Approaches to the Intersections of Fashion, Art, Health and Medicine'. My chapter, 'Votives and Charm Bracelets: Materialising Health-Related Experiences Through ‘Sacred’ Objects', academically extends my research interest in votives and how objects help us to externalise our thoughts; the opening abstract hopefully explaining what I'm getting at. 

'The concept of a physical artefact acting as an intermediary between the embodied individual and the quasi-divine has historically taken many forms, including charms and tokens worn to ward off evil and ensure good spiritual and physical health. This chapter focuses on the artist Garry Barker’s practice whereby he aims to give material form to people’s psychological relationships with their bodies. Responding to themes that emerge from one-on-one conversations with project participants, Barker has used the making of votives and charms to articulate and materialise people’s health-related narratives. More recently he has been using the charm bracelet as a device for the presentation or exhibition of small sculptures and images that are designed as objects to help mediate between desires to transcend the problems of everyday reality and the need to seek wish fulfilment by channelling more spiritual forces.'

Making charms was an extension of my votive work. But the idea had a particular gestation. During the Covid Crisis I had been party to an argument about whether or not we should have the Covid vaccination. My belief, like that of most health professionals, was that if too many people avoided the vaccination, we would not be able to stop the endless rounds of re-infection. I thought at the time, if people could externally show that they had been inoculated, then more people would probably decide to make the same decision. So I made protective shield designs for necklaces and badges, as well as designs for charms and charm bracelets. The idea being that inoculation was a form of protection and that these items would operate as wearable protective charms, as well as a wordless way of communicating the fact that you had been vaccinated. 

Design for an 'I've had my Covid Inoculation' Necklace 

Charm bracelet idea

While I was designing ideas for the bracelet, I realised that my other ideas relating to various ways of visualising interoception could also be made into small charms. Pages of drawings in sketchbooks, soon became devoted to possible charms, and all sorts of forms began to emerge, many of them relating to past ideas that I had worked with. It seemed to me at the time that my entire approach to art making could be revised and instead to dreaming of grand gestures, everything could be miniaturised and people could wear these thoughts as tiny objects.


Notebook pages

I had an enamel badge made of the syringe on a blue shield image and it was distributed to various inoculation venues. Recently a local medical professional has donated one of these enamel badges and a collection of associated votive cards, that had used with people at the time of the pandemic, to the Leeds Thackray Medical Museum. The museum has developed a collection of objects that is designed to operate as a reminder of some of the things that were produced and used by the medical profession during the Covid emergency. It was good to hear that the badge had not just been used, but that it was felt it was also worth being archived.

The enamel badge being worn

In my various approaches to making things, I'm always fascinated by how a connection is made between what one makes and possible audiences. Interconnectedness it feels to me, will be more and more important to us all, as we struggle to come to terms with ourselves and the world that surrounds us. One of the greatest fears I have is that the vicissitudes of modern life will result in my isolation from both the world itself and other people. If we are not to make the planet totally inhospitable to our kind of life, we need to commune deeply with it. We need to connect with processes such as how its weather systems work, how soils support vegetation, how water flows, how air is formed and how animals survive and if that means that we have to return to older forms of communication and fuse them together with our more scientific understanding of how the world works, well so be it. We also need to develop a deeper understanding or awareness of ourselves. If we are to have empathy towards others, we need to be tolerant and to seek ways of communicating that don't simply echo the tight channel that we use for communicating with those people who are just like us. As we narrow the band width we become cut off from more and more people, as well as from other things, such as an awareness of why certain plants grow well in some places but not others, and of why some things thrive in certain situations but in others they fail. 

I had been trying out alternative ways to visualise ideas. The sensation that everything is connected also I thought, spreads out into how we envisage time. Breaking it down into past, present and future felt wrong; for instance South American pre-Columbian cultures, saw time as a spiralling interconnectedness and not a linear progression.
More abstract ideas such as this also need visual forms, and in response to this one, over pages of a small notebook, I found I was drawing spiral forms, over and over again. Forms that reminded me of ones I had looked at many times in the past. Spirals made by Robert Smithson and Louise Bourgeois, or by the people who designed the entrance to the Newgrange monument in Ireland. I had also been looking at badges made for pilgrims to wear. 

Pilgrim's Badge

As a test for how an idea could be visualised and then miniaturised I designed and had made a small enamel spiral badge, using the knowledge developed when designing and getting made the enamel badge for celebrating having being inoculated. These were distributed as gifts to anyone who wanted them. People liked the fact that when wearing one they would be asked, "What is your badge about?" and then they could begin a new conversation about what the idea of spiralling time meant to them. These are still available and I continue to give them out if people want one. The positive reception reinforced the idea that people's bodies could be like small art galleries and the more I looked around, the more I saw people using badge like forms to make statements about who they were and where they had been. 


From membership of a political party, via all sorts of other memberships, to tiny images used to elicit memories of visits to various places, badges are active participants in the communication business. 
Badge symbolising past, present and future, all experienced as one intermingled entity

Our bodies and their coverings can be like materials out of which we construct images of how we wish to be seen by others, We communicate using our eyes and noses just as much as we communicate using sounds. Tattoos, clothes, jewellery, hair, deportment, skin condition, perfumes and the general demeanour or feeling tone of our physical presence, make for direct communication channels with others. The article I wrote is a more 'academic' attempt to try and communicate how these processes might work. It suggests or points towards ways of making artworks that fit into the mainstream of life, rather than them operating outside of our day-to-day activities. It also implies a critique of a 'special' art world, where the value of art is measured in terms of money and status, as well as the prestige of the institution showing the work, rather than in terms of how well artworks can help us to connect with each other. 

I would like my work to operate as a doorway into ways of thinking that begin to forge connections between between people and ideas, as well as between ideas and ways of relating with the rest of the world. I have always thought that the more you have empathy for others, the more chance there is of eventually finding those others can become either friends or helpers in the difficult negotiation of life's vicissitudes. But empathy seems in short supply at the moment; if the making of art can do anything, perhaps it might help with the building of empathetic connections. If only the wish of a more altruistic world could come true, simply by wishing it. In the meantime, I will continue to make things that help me to externalise or crystallise my thoughts and hopefully as I do, others might also find these solidified thoughts useful. 


Material tests

Charm idea developed from the material tests

Bracelet charm idea

These ideas for bracelet charms were developed using images emerging from an awareness of somatic experiences. I sat with people and developed conversations about their inner feelings. These might be about their psychic state, or their physical condition, but most importantly they were attempts to make visual images of sensations that were normally invisible. Lots of drawings were made as well as small sculptures using clay. Gradually communication developed as images emerged. At the core of each conversation, as a form developed, was the question, "Is it more like this than that?" 

The tiny low relief sculptures that were made as additions to charm bracelets, were meant to operate in the same way as my previous votive images. They were objects that had been made from externalised feelings in this case, rather than representations of things such as arms, legs knees or necks. The bracelet that contains images of votives that sits at the top of this post, was the first version to emerge of this idea; it was a way of furthering my older concept of how to work with votives. The later more subjective interpretations were harder to develop and also much more difficult for other people to interpret, but following the experience of the spiral badge, it is hoped that people will wear them, and take pride in opening out their own interpretation of what these tiny objects could signify. More importantly, could they still operate as charms? Could they field off illness or psychic attack? Belief is a strange thing and it is well known that the placebo effect is real. 

Whether or not I manage to further these ideas will depend on how they unfold. Best laid plans etc. I have been sidelined by various things recently and have decided that by having a variety of projects on the go, at least some of them may prove fruitful; hence this new year resolution. 

See also:

Animism

Drawing and communication theory

Mythic Worlds

'Votives and Charm Bracelets: Materialising Health-Related Experiences Through ‘Sacred’ Objects'

An article on my votive making

The spiral

The tattoo


Thursday, 3 June 2021

The mark of ritual

14th century carved crosses on the walls of the Chapel of St. Helena

Thousands of tiny, "medieval" crosses are carved into the walls of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Masons or artisans carved these crosses, probably on behalf of pilgrims, who it is argued, kept the dust from each carving as a relic or sacred souvenir. What interested me in this work was the importance of the dust removal. When carving any dust is usually regarded as waste, but in this instance it is the carvings that are the remainder, the dust being central to an important ritual. This ritual gives the dust honorific value partly by it coming from a very holy place, (inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is the hill of Golgotha, the site of Jesus’ crucifixion, as well as the Tomb of Jesus, where he was buried and from which he arose from the dead) and partly by it being generated by the activity of carving a cross. The making of a cross was a vital sign of not just being a Christian, but of the 'truth' or 'veracity' of one's actions. In this case each pilgrim was engaging in a ritual that resulted in their being able to take away a physical memory or talisman of their experience. I'm interested in these ritual actions because I have been making small ceramic 'votive' type objects and looking at the moment of 'transaction' between myself as a maker and the individuals that have a vested interest in thinking of these objects as externalised feelings or concerns. 

Foot votives

The ceramic foot votives above were eventually turned into candles, their insides filled with wax and wicks inserted, so that a nighttime ritual could be developed around the idea of lighting someone's way. These feet were made for someone feeling 'lost', the foot candles giving that someone an excuse to punctuate their day with a moment's reflection, the feet representing both themselves and others, and being a reminder that in many ways we are all lost and seeking the 'right' path. 
A votive made for someone with bad eczema 

Sometimes votives were made in direct response to a physical pain or affliction, as in the one above. The important issue was however how an individual used their relationship with the votive to 'solve' their particular need. For instance they might bury it, smash it, give it to someone else or put it on display. Once the thought, idea or feeling is externalised, it can be 'done to' as you would any other thing out in the world. 

A kintsugi repair

Kintsugi, relates to another type of ritual action that can be embedded into life. In its original form pieces of broken ceramic are put back together and repaired using golden lacquer, these repaired ceramic bowls becoming a reminder that what might have been an accident or flaw, could now be even more meaningful, as kintsugi converts what was a weakness into a strength and like the Kula exchange, as an object is given to another or has another action embedded into its history, it becomes more and more valuable, not in monetary terms but in emotional significance. This idea is reflected in the bowls chosen for Japanese tea ceremonies; bowls with imperfections are revered for their beauty and may be chosen over and above a bowl that is aesthetically beautiful, but without a lived experience. 

Mizuko kuyo: A ritual figure 

There is a Japanese Buddhist ritual that is designed to help people mourn miscarriage or an abortion. The ceremonies begin with the making of a token, like a bib or a necklace, which you then put onto a Jizo or child saint representation. Jizo statues in Japan often look childlike and as you make an offering to the statue, you're also making an offering to the child's spirit that the statue in a way represents.  A monastery garden may be filled with hundreds of often moss-covered Jizo statues, each one wearing a bib or bonnet token. The gardens represent the enormity of loss that these events have meant to people. These rituals are not available to everyone and I'm very aware that when faced with a similar situation many years ago I wish I had had an outlet for my grief, but there wasn't any.

One of the roles of art has always been to help with a coming to terms with the bigger picture. We have however in a secular society perhaps forgotten how to embed ritual into our daily life. We all used to have to say a simple prayer, 'For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful' before every meal, as a reminder of how lucky we were to have food on the table, but this was in a time just after the war when food had been scarce and rationing was still in place. If we don't stop and have those moments of reflection, we begin to take everything for granted, and this has led to a difficult present whereby we have many luxuries but very few reasons to feel connected to a deeper vision of the world, one whereby we feel inextricably part of the natural order of things. 

Historically the arts functioned to provide an emotionally felt and transcendent means of establishing contact with things beyond human understanding, often by creating an externalised visualisation of inner feelings or concepts, visualisations that could then be used during communal ceremonial rituals. Artists are still making externalised visualisations of inner feelings, but our very individualistic society has somehow lost its way and the communal ties of agreed communication are hard to see. But ritual does still happen, if we look at roadside temporary memorials or shrines, or the outpouring of grief that was written on the walls in relation to the Grenfell Tower fire, we see the need for ritual events and how some form of physical object needs to be used as a focus for them. 

Roadside memorial

Grenfell memorial wall

There are though small rituals that are perhaps just as important in relation to our individual engagement with life. Roger Ackling's meditative mark making, whereby he used a magnifying glass to focus sunlight and make scorch marks on found pieces of wood, celebrates the central power of the sun in all our lives, his small controlled gestures still resonate and when we look at his work, especially if you are allowed to hold them in your hands as you do so, we are reminded that small repeated gestures can be very meaningful. (Think of how we use rosary beads).

Roger Ackling: Sun histories: sunburnt wood

Mudrā

Small rituals come in many guises and perhaps the simplest and most effective are those gestures that we make with our hands. For instance the hand gestures or mudrās in tantric rituals can be used to construct a complete symbolic world. In Buddhist and Hindu traditions rosary beads are called mala. They consist of 108 beads that represent the 108 human passions or sins that must be overcome in order to reach enlightenment. Touching the beads reminds the user of each different passion and the ways you might confront that passion and go beyond it. The beads are another way to externalise an idea and you could theorise this use as an extended mind concept, the beads becoming a substitute memory organ. 

Many of us perform private rituals without realising that we are performing them. Perhaps metaphorically touching a piece of wood to ensure good luck, keeping our fingers crossed or not stepping on cracks in paving stones, these very basic ritual activities give meaning to daily activities and in their repetition these simple acts gradually acquire more forcefulness. However, what begins as a basic response, can over time become obsessive. People can find themselves silently repeating special words, repeatedly touching certain things or images, or counting and re-counting numbers. Obsessive compulsive disorders are perhaps not far away from private rituals, but all these things are part and parcel of being who we are and how we operate and as such they can be an entry into the way we think about how the making of art can have meaning. In this case I am suggesting that all art objects may work in a similar way to these objects of ritual, they are externalised ideas, ideas made concrete or materialised and as such they become extensions of our minds, extensions that allow us to see what we are doing a little more clearly or perhaps allow us to re-embody, hold on to or digest ideas by making body metaphors into realities.  

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