Creative Life
Keith Morant
Keith Morant, Whispers in the Wind.
I have "naturally" made pictures since I was an infant, an activity that was not always acceptable to those around me. As I matured, I began to question this propensity very seriously by reading and studying all that I could find concerning art and artists. Through such studies I came to the firm belief that, in higher terms of the definition, a person does not just decide to become an artist; either he or she is an artist or is not. On the other hand, it must be remembered that every human is an artist to some degree and that the creative process in every individual contributes to the foundation and progress of their society. There are however, those few whom nature endows with a creative force that may only be termed as "excessive." It is the force which, as Van Gogh stated, "is greater than God and greater than myself." Throughout history such people, because of their non-conformist attitudes and seeming abnormality, have often suffered derision and neglect, but equally as often their work has proved of great importance as a source of nourishment and learning to the minds of later generations.
In trying to come to terms with my own compulsion to paint I have read deeply on the subjects of art, artists, philosophy, psychology and human creative history in general. It has been my desire to comprehend not only the multifold meanings of art, but more importantly, the reasoning behind my own innate desire to create. My findings, while certainly enriching my mind as to the necessity of art as a natural balancing process of the collective human psyche, has not given any satisfactory explanations or conclusions as to my personal predilection. Indeed, my researches have often led me in a contrary direction where I am confounded by the perversity and unpredictability inherent to aesthetics and the so-called art scene. Of course, in this age of ultra-communication and media conditioning, the dissemination of knowledge is at once both manipulative and out of control. The plethora of paradoxes and downright absurdities one encounters in the jargonese of art writers alone is enough to confuse the most enlightened of researchers. My own investigations have led me to conclude that, on one hand, any art knowledge can only be related to in retrospect, and on the other, while it may be of certain educational value, such knowledge is quite useless as an indicator to future directions or states.
I have been painting now for over 35 years and I believe such experience has given me an evolving advantage where sometimes satisfactory conclusions may be reached. However, every painting is a totally new experiment and I know that I will never live long enough to experience any form of ultimate satisfaction. What small satisfactory results I do experience must stay deep within myself in the knowledge that they may not necessarily communicate their fullest potential in my own time. I must always work for the future in the hope that someday, whatever it is that nature is expressing through me will communicate some form of stimulation and nourishment to future minds.
My own work has been termed "celebratory," a description which I am not displeased with. I am generally of an optimistic disposition and am constantly amazed and delighted at the very fact of existence itself. I have no Gods; for me, the weakness in all doctrines is the human sensibility, but at the same time, when I see the incredibility of Nature I cannot blame Man for his search of divine justification. I believe that the most important tool in Man’s continuing struggle for survival is communication, and I am personally grateful to be alive in a time when this tool is almost over-used. It is my greatest wish to communicate, through my art, my own vision of existence in the hope that it will find a place in the evolving consciousness of Man.
In the quest to arrive at an understanding of my own creative urges I have encountered many blind alleys. It is only lately that I have realized that these frustrations were largely of my own making. My enquiry and assessment of the problem was based on intellectual analysis and philosophical logic, which, with a mindset of traditional art values, left little or no room for spiritual considerations. However, over recent years, through my studies in Eastern philosophy, I have come to accept the importance of acknowledging Man as an integrated facet of Nature rather than the alienated force that his egotism has generated. I am happy to have discovered what is known in Zen as the "True Self," the Self that is not an ego conditioned and clothed in illusion or blinded with desire; the Self which is the Non-Self of nature, which transcends dualistic thought and accepts the "oneness" of all existence.
While its foundation is Buddhism, Zen is not a religion or even a philosophy; it is purely a state of mind–an awareness of the Absolute. It has given to me "direct perception" of what is termed my "original nature," and has facilitated (through meditation) a much deeper awareness of the creative principle. From this unexpected source many of my questions are being answered and the most enlightening discovery for me has been the realization that the deeper motivation behind my compulsion to create is, after all, merely another surge of Nature’s forces.
Perhaps a great part of my inner necessity to create is a reaction against the transience of existence. Permanence is an illusion. Everything exists in a continued state of "becoming" and all existence is the sum of its opposite. Death is as much a necessity to life as life is the predicate to death. This is the nature of nature; its only reality being change and metamorphosis. When I am painting I know that I am closer to the manifestations of these truths than at any other time. The use of all my physical, mental and spiritual forces in the creation of new images somehow seems to check or contradict this phenomenon. The painting, if it is true to itself and conveys its mystery with convincing authority, becomes another positive that displaces a negative, and therefore pushes back the boundaries of the unknown just a fraction further.
