We’ve Come So Far

It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic,
we see a new meaning in it.
– Anais Nin

You never know where you will find a catalyst or where it might lead. At least I don’t. A vision, an image, a phrase, wildflowers, the wind, a gospel song, a gesture of generosity, an act of defiance, a star beneath the stars or the magic of a solar moon – a conceptual exhibition or a distant constellation – a tangle, a loss, or equal night of the equinox – a hypnotic eye or the eye of a storm, justice torched by ignorance – love in all its incarnations, spirits with their incantations – an anniversary, a birthday, a retrospective for the future. But I do know inspiration will find me, lure me – just now sure how or when or where.

I don’t know, my music has always just come from where the wind blew me. Like where I’m at during a particular moment in time.
– Tom Petty

After a convoluted journey of many months, including several years procrastinating, I finally pull together a retrospective of my artwork (Photography and Artist Books) over the last 3 decades. Many pieces take me back to their unconscious origins and now reveal connections. To wander the maze of mirrors and listen for the echoes, please visit www.marthafullerartist.com.

I’d like to say the art site project stands in place of a blog post for August. But that would be a perception of my perceptions. Last month I cast around for inspiration. Seduced by a vision of the path of totality, I begin a piece about career eclipse chasers loading their gear, along with once-in-a-lifetime eclipse virgins hungry for their first experience. Several friends of mine push aside the beat of their daily routine to head north and camp in a field when for a few silent minutes day turns into night. Not so prepared, at 10:30 pm on Aug. 20, I hone in on a directory of 7/11s in search of eclipse glasses and dial. The proprietor laughs – tells me to call one around the corner. This guy claims he has a delivery coming at 11:30 pm, adds 100 people are already lined up, then assures me has 1000 pairs on the truck.

So I text my son on the final 40 miles of a 7 hour road trip from the Bay area. Exhausted, he’d just made it through the grapevine. “Hey, do you think maybe you could swing by this 7/11 on your way home – it’s not too far out of the way.” I uh, can’t tell you word for word what he said. “I know, I know,” I commiserate, “but it’s a chance of a lifetime!”

The story takes a turn I don’t see coming. Just after 9:30 am, I stumble downstairs to find a pair of solar shades waiting on the table. I step outside to a cloudless azure sky, don the glasses (skeptical of the barcode) and gaze heavenward. I stand transfixed. I text my son, already at work. “Don’t forget to look up!” He responds with lyrical awe – he too has viewed the orange and black orbs cross paths. You see, I set out to write a piece about the path of totality that would linger long after the sun and moon unclasp, but with a mysterious sleight of hand, it transforms into an ode to my son. To his generosity.

When my pupils finally adjust to normal light, I happen on an announcement for the opening of the Sarah Charlesworth Exhibition Doubleworld at LACMA. I’ll find a catalyst for a post there, I reason, and head to LA. A conceptual artist and photographer, Charlesworth (1947 -2013) aligned herself with the Pictures Generation of NY artists concerned with the role of images in contemporary life. When I enter the last gallery space, with heightened perceptions of our image saturated culture, I see her series Arc of the Total Eclipse. Charlesworth removed the text from the front page of 29 newspapers across the country leaving only the masthead and images of the sun obscured by the moon at various stages of the 1979 eclipse. Devoid of text, the astronomical event appears improbable – even supernatural.

But I eclipse myself with these eclipse vignettes. So I go on a riff about altered states of consciousness inspired by Aldous Huxley’s classic essay The Doors of Perception named after William Blake’s 1793 poem. Huxley details his insights and visions on a mescaline trip one afternoon and I think I’m onto something – but I ramble like I’m the one on Peyote and now it’s September.

If the Sun and Moon should ever doubt, they’d immediately go out.
– William Blake

I wait. I know I’ll get it. And I’ve also tried to get tickets for Tom Petty at several venues throughout the summer. I finally snag a pair for Friday the 22nd, the final night of the tour at the Hollywood Bowl. As I make my way to the seats under the stars, the timbre of singer songwriter Lucinda Williams’ voice stirs me up. Halfway through her Americana performance she delivers a new song – a defiant response to Charlottesville. “We’ve come too far to turn around.” From a gospel song, her rant full of passion, haunts me.

With his usual calm, Tom appears onstage to a raucous crowd he absorbs with wonder, acknowledges a moment of sadness for the final night of the 40th anniversary tour, then breaks into “Rockin’ Around (With You)” the first track of the first album he recorded. I don’t know about the other 17,499 people but I feel the mojo and it just keeps rolling. During a rendition of his 1977 radio song “American Girl” projections of a diverse group of young women flash in the background making a powerful statement. Under a floating ceiling of orbs that change color and reconfigure with the mood, Petty performs with intensity and precision. And I’m freefallin’ into the night.

On Sunday I’m still immersed in the Heartbreakers when I hear about the NFL anthem protests. Using their visibility to speak out, black athletes make a bold statement to protest racial injustice when they take to one knee during the anthem. And the protest spreads ­– Stevie Wonder kneels onstage in NY, Pharrell Williams kneels in Charlottesville, VA, Eddie Veder in Tennessee and in Nashville, Meghan Linsey and her accompanying guitarist take to one knee after singing the anthem. Not defying the country but standing up to what’s happening in the country. Let’s not forget the Black Power Salute at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City, a peaceful protest by African Americans Tommie Smith and Juan Carlos who took off their shoes, lowered their heads, and raised their fist during the playing of the anthem at their (gold and bronze) medal ceremony. Smith and Carlos rocked the world with respect. I predict the current surge of protests will continue to gain momentum. I’ll take a knee any day to stand up for justice and freedom.

We’ve come too far to turn around.
– Lucinda Williams

So the August post may have slipped by, but I gather my insights – synthesize my sightings. I reread my blog from October 2014 inspired by the final night of Tom Petty’s Hypnotic Eye concert, our mutual Libra birthdays and the alchemy of transformation. A month late and too soon for October – I’ve finally got it.

You’ve got to keep moving. It may take a rare natural phenomenon or hallucinogenic visions, a gesture of generosity or an act of defiance, an anniversary tour or a retrospective for the future. It may take the wizardry of artists, writers, singers and songwriters – and the courage to be free. But you’ve got to keep moving. Create a new project or commit to the one you started. Wherever the wind blows you – garner the mojo!