Timeout for Art: Wabi-Sabi (April A~Z Challenge)



Well, clearly this photograph is not a depiction of my art. It is a good example, though, of Wabi-Sabi, which plays an important role in my art work.

“Wabi-Sabi is a beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.

It is a beauty of things modest and humble.

It is a beauty of things unconventional.

When computers, methods of graphic design and new technology enabled a level of perfection in art that was impossible before, the concept of Wabi-Sabi was redemption. My art would never be perfect. I am sloppy in my work habits, careless in measuring, and unskilled in the tools that would take these imperfections away. Beyond that, I’m not at all convinced I would ever want to. I like fabrics that show wear, objects worn smooth by handling, and walls that hold layers of paint and paper.

At Crampton Park, in Lapeer, Michigan where I grew up, there is an ancient willow tree that grows almost sideways, fed by and leaning down toward the waters of the Flint River. When my daughters were small, they scampered up that tree, slid along its trunk, and jumped off the one-foot drop into the sand…as a hundred other children had done before them. Evidence to that fact was the horizontal surface of the tree trunk: bare of bark and polished to a high gloss by the many little pairs of dungarees that scooted across it. That is beautiful to me.

When I visit a city, I look for signs of its history. The sleek new metal and glass structures do not interest me. I am drawn to the railings worn smooth by a thousand hands, the floors that have pathways worn into them from all of the feet that have walked there. I am attracted to the sides of buildings where layer upon layer of advertising reveals the past, in fragments. That is beautiful to me.

In art, I like to see the hand of the artist at work. I don’t want smoothed out brushstrokes, or to have a misguided line erased away. To see the path that the artist took to get to the finished product is a gift. I feel that gift when I look at the heavy marks of the brush left in a painting by Van Gogh; I can almost imagine that I am looking right over his shoulder as he works, his strokes are so vivid.

So, in my own work, I embrace the imperfection, the humble materials, the layers that reflect my process, and the stages that have led me to the completion of a piece. I’m afraid I couldn’t achieve perfection if I wanted it. Fortunately, that is not my goal!

About cindyricksgers

I am an artist. I live on an island in northern Lake Michigan, USA. I have two grown daughters, four strong, smart and handsome grandsons and one beautiful, intelligent and charming granddaughter. I live with two spoiled dogs. I love walking in the woods around my home, reading, writing and playing in my studio.

4 responses »

  1. This is a beautiful and personal explanation of Wabi-Sabi, Cindy. I’m planning to update some of my older posts this summer. When I revise my post on this topic, I’ll definitely add a link to your post. It will help Profound Journey readers to see Wabi-Sabi from a real artist’s perspective.

  2. “I am attracted to the sides of buildings where layer upon layer of advertising reveals the past, in fragments. That is beautiful to me.” Love this! I recently visited an antique store in my hometown and they had removed a drop ceiling to reveal the tin ceiling behind it. It wasn’t in pristine condition (time had taken a toll on it) but it was still beautiful.

    • Oh, yes, I’m sure I would, too! Thirty years ago, something like that would be “restored.” Now, more and more, the look of age and wear is appreciated. Thank you for reading, and for your comments!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s