An Aesthetic of Rust and Warp

When I was in grad school, I took two writing/literature classes from Lane Hall, a visual and installation artist who moved into the English Department about the time I started the program. I was keenly interested in his take on writing and, truth be told, found some of the ideas his classes fostered to be the most influential I encountered in school.

There are a number of reasons Lane's classes were so interesting, but one of the most evident was the way in which he came at writing. His appreciation of elements deep in the fabric of a text along with the visual expression of writing as a technology greatly expanded my own field of vision on the subject and moved directly into my practice.

But as a secondary benefit, I am now much more attuned to hearing the writing philosophy that artists and bankers and grocery store cashiers dispense, often without knowing it. As a result, I have discovered some beautiful thoughts in places I may not have otherwise been looking.

Character in the aging.

Such was the case when I first read Dennis Hare's artist statement. Hare, a Carmel, CA-based painter I met this year at the unveiling of a piece he donated to my father's church, describes his work in the following way:

"The beauty of things made simple, imperfect, impermanent, incomplete, and unconventional. My work is made of materials that are visibly vulnerable to the effects of weathering and human treatment. Rust, tarnish, stain, warping, shrinking, and cracking are my pallet. There is a poise and character to the natural aging process that brings life to my work. I know a piece is complete when I feel a deep spiritual connection. It is not so much what a piece says, but how it feels. I am satisfied when my work has a strength of character beckoning the viewer to get close, to touch, and to relate."

I read and reread this a dozen times, and each time I did, I was more amazed at how eloquently it captures the way I see my characters when I write.

I want their rust and stain and tarnished spots to be present, to show the cracks and the pain as the places where the loss and the grace of life mingle.

I want my readers to get close, touch, and relate to the people I'm introducing them to in my stories.

I want simple, imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete to add up to the complexity and beauty I find all around me.