Holonic Art Movement revisited

Found Art Tuesday

Let me tell you a story. Back in 2007 I was still an artist and not yet a mother and we still lived in sunny California. I believe it was my fellow artist Sarah Winkler who introduced me to another artist called Rosa Murillo. Rosa had started a project she called “Found Art Tuesday”. The original blog doesn’t exist anymore, but she basically posted a new topic (one word) on her blog every Tuesday, giving herself, and anybody else who’d like to join, one week to make something inspired by that word. And then, here's where the “found” part comes in, leaves it somewhere for somebody else to find.

I LOVED the idea and joined the project. Between January and September of 2007 I made several mini pieces of art in all shapes and forms and left them behind in grocery stores, in credit card machines and on car windows for people to find. I guess after 9 months, I got sucked into another project… I’m not sure when Rosa stopped doing Found Art Tuesday, but she’s making some amazing jewelry now.

Holonic Art Movement

Now let me tell you another story about another project. The idea of the Holonic Art Movement became a reality in January 2006 when I painted a foundation of sanded grout onto a 12” x 12” canvas, gessoed it, pasted a line from a magazine onto it, and handed it to Roger Lee, my typography teacher at the local community college.

The term “holon” was coined by Arthur Koestler in his book “The Ghost in the Machine” and describes something that is simultaneously a whole and a part of something bigger. I would consider myself an introverted extrovert. I'm shy at first, not a person to start a conversation, but once somebody invites me in, I'm in 100%. I enjoyed painting by myself, and I also enjoyed meeting with other artists and talking about techniques and inspirations. But I wanted to make stuff WITH other people. I like being my own whole, but I aso craved being a part of something bigger. I was getting more and more frustrated about the fact that we would meet and TALK about art, then go back home to our studios to make art, only to meet up again a month later to TALK about what we had done. I wanted to MAKE art together and talk about it while we're making. I wanted to get inspired by the steps in between a blank canvas and a finished piece, the steps that you rarely get to see. I wanted to challenge myself and others to try new things.

So, over the next 29 months or so, I took unfinished pieces of art to monthly meetings of the oil, pastel and acrylic group at the local Museum of Art. I asked if anybody would like to paint more on the painting and bring it back to the next meeting. I also connected with artists in the online art community DeviantArt. I ended up sending small panels to artists across the world and they sent them back to me (only one form Peru got lost). The project earned me an artist grant and it culminated in an exhibition at CorkStop Studios. It brought together over 70 artists from around the world in a collaborative project. Those artists were each a whole and part of something bigger - a holon, hence the name for the project.

Now what?

I’ve been dreaming about starting both projects again somehow, since my kids are getting older and we’re somewhat settled down, for now. And I’ve been itching to do art in general. I’ve been doing little things here and there, but nothing to satisfy that inner thirst (or hunger?). I had a few talks with friends about it, trying to explain WHY I’m not making art. First it was about the materials. When my daughter was born, I didn’t want her playing with my acrylic paints. They’re plastic, made from petroleum after all, not to mention that they aren’t washable. So, besides being busy getting used to being a new, sleep-deprived mom, and working as a graphic designer, that was my excuse for not making art. When my daughter was four years old, we painted a picture together for a local exhibition on powerful women. It was awesome. But the only one we did together.

Chapter 2 - acrylic painting on canvas by Pacha

Two years later we sold our local business and our house in California. The process of cleaning out my studio in our garage was hard. I’m not a person that gets very attached to things. I like do-overs and fresh starts. I love re-arranging my furniture and a good spring cleaning. But a painting isn’t just a canvas with some paint on it. It’s a piece of my heart (or my brain - I’m a very cerebral artist, if that makes any sense). I’ve sold my fair share of art. I held online auctions on Facebook. I gave away art to friends and family. And still there was art in the garage. Art that I couldn’t bring on a 12-flight to Europe. Some of it got stored away in a friend’s basement, most of it went into the dumpster.

As sad and hard it was to throw out pieces of my heart and brain, it was a cleansing act as well (hello, Marie Kondo). And with this cleaning out of my studio came the resolution to never amass such an amount of art and art supplies again. And there it was - another reason NOT to make art.

LandArt

When my son was a baby he pretty much hated being inside. He wouldn’t sleep and he would cry a lot. But as soon as we stepped outside into the open air, he would calm down, often even fall asleep, and stay asleep. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time outside with a baby strapped to my front or back. I hiked a lot, and eventually discovered LandArt for me. I love the fleeting nature of it. You find something, get inspired, create, leave it behind, Nature takes it back. Nothing piling up and collecting dust in a garage. No mess to clean up. And you’re out in nature. No inhaling of toxic fumes or just general stuffiness of a garage.

But alas, something is missing. I’m a painter at heart, a mixed media artist, really. So here I am, still wanting. To make. Something. Anything. And to bring other makers together again somehow.

King of Limericks

Another thing you need to know is that my husband is an amazing writer. Most of the blog posts on this site were written by him. He writes regular blogs for several websites and you can also find his articles on medium.com. After watching the movie Elling, I talked him into hiding some of his poems in granola boxes in the grocery store. He briefly became the granola poet, based on the protagonist of said movie, who hid his poems in sauerkraut packages and was called the sauerkraut poet. One year he challenged himself to write a limerick every day. Even though he went through slumps, he’s never really stopped writing them. We collaborated on a couple of books with his limericks. I designed them, but didn’t add any artwork. I’ve been wanting to illustrate his poems for a long time. I’m not really sure what took me so long. I guess I never saw myself as an “illustrator”.

Piecing it together

Maybe you can already see where this is going. In case you can't, let me tell you another, very brief story.

A couple of years ago, our daughter asked a serious question: “Why is there a world?” Not one to take such questions lightly, my husband wrote a poem for her. I recently came a cross this poem again and it finally clicked. I will paint this poem, illustrate it, if you will. It will be the first collaboration of the next round of the Holonic Art Movement and I will leave it for people to find, as the next installment of Found Art Tuesday. Boom. Artistic collaboration without art collecting dust in the basement, or the pressure of selling it.

I have a project. I’m really excited. I already finished part 1 and 2. I will take them to Toulouse and maybe Barcelona. You can follow the project under the hashtags #holonicartmovement, #foundarttuesday and #kingoflimericks. I will create a gallery here on my website for it, too. If you have an idea for a collaboration, please contact me! It would make my day! Or go find somebody else to make something together with.

The premise is simple: MAKE and SHARE.