Kay Flierl: Shedding Light
As we sit in the depth of winter, I can only envision the promise fulfilled in spring. The cyclical flow of the seasons requires a dark, dormant state before plants and seeds can germinate and flourish. It is a period of waiting and longing for the colorful display we know will eventually be presented to us.
In creating art, there is a time when I enter into a similar unknowing. Where immediate answers are intangible and I must rest in the silent darkness. Not sure where to go or even if any path will push me forward. This is a crucial period when creativity flourishes in the questioning more than the certainty, preparing me for a new depth of creativity. Each blank canvas holds the promise of a new journey, drawing me back to create again and again.
Growing up in Wisconsin, barns seeped into my being like sunshine. They took root. And, even today, I get excited at what I might find on a road trip. So, I had to ask myself why? I think it’s because an old barn physically displays the cycle of life. From the decay of winter to life anew in spring, the cyclical effect of storms, sunshine, heat, cold, a cool breeze, a tornado…all reveal themselves in the worn out wood and the rusted metal until it looks as though the barn has become one with its environment. A sacred space. A work of art.