Elf, Shrine & Oracle
“Not an elf on the shelf, but rather more like the court jester,” I say by way of explanation. Jester, clown, sassy barmaid, they all speak rare truths to power, the kind that lets us know God has a sense of humor. Some things we can only know through the bad joke, the irreverent truths that disrespect status and the status quo. King Lear might have done better had he listened more closely to his jester, or with a more open ear to the tragic portends that precede great storms. We don’t always want the wisdom tucked, like a note, in the folds of humor, especially when we fear the germ of truth with which they might prick our propped-up posture. And still, a capacity to laugh whole heartedly at our own foolish ways is vital medicine for the soul lost in the drama of believing all the worlds a stage.
The elf in my paintings, or elves I should say, because there are usually a multitude, tend to show up late, defy logic, and make me laugh at their sheer audacity. I think back to the rainbow-antlered elk in one of my first few paintings who showed up after I said I don’t know how to paint an elk. Or I think of the outrageous faces that showed up in a recent cloud bank, one character smoking a red-tipped stogie cigar. Their gift, the gifts of all my curious creatures, elves, jesters, and oddities, they seem to give me back perspective when I’ve been traveling down the rabbit hole too long.
The shrine comes after. As offerings collect on the windowsill: a stone from a beach walk, a tiny gift of remembrance from a friend, a candle stub remnant of a prayer, form a makeshift shrine. Crows like to collect shiny, curious bits of intrigue together in a cache. Perhaps they play a game of theft and acquisition to demonstrate their skill as a provider to their mates? Some shrines are libraries to embrace meaning in the leather tombs with gold imprinted spines and silky pages, arranged in compliment to an age, a theme, a genre, they are arrayed over the oak veneer of a brittle life.
The collector moves objects about on the surface of the shrine seeking the pattern, the relationship, or juxtaposition that might awaken a new paradox of previously obscure meaning. Without the accidental gathering at the shrine of a multiplicity of tinder, there would be no spark for fresh insight. From the shrine I create what is new in my life and paintings. I learn to notice patterns in what I am drawn toward and insights as I see connection in the disparate parts from which to construct a whole.
Now, what do we make of the oracles? I am a rational twentieth century grad and lover of science, along with the mythic. I love the magical and metaphor, enjoy the synchronicity of astrology, yet identify as an educated, thinking person. I am fully vaccinated and have rows of fantastical stories on my bookshelves. Oracles may seem to require a suspension of disbelief for full immersion. Instead, I create parallel tracks, giving respect to the knowing revealed in the impossible. With lovers I share the forecasts that seem in sync with my mood and current experience. Oracles do not guide my financial investments. I will spread an oracle deck across my bed and seek insight regarding the character, values, and motivations of a group of new friends to deepen my intuitive understanding and connection with the group.
In painting the oracle reveals itself through the narratives, the archetypal stories that arise as forms take place in a painting. The oracle is a kind of conversation with the unknown self that has an opening exposition in the choice of color, brush and stroke. It has rising and falling energies, sometimes a very emotional climax, and denouement into the resolution that signals completion of a particular painting.
My three creative friends, the Elf, Shrine and Oracle have taken many forms over the years. Rarely dull, they push, nudge, needle me into areas of reluctance, frustration and even boredom with my life. I am grateful for their companionship, their reminders, and their insights. As metaphors for my inner most voices, they inspire energy and give lift to my work. Perhaps in sharing these thoughts you will discover your own unique array of creative friends just waiting at the door for an invitation to enter, enliven and entertain for a time.