As a child riding in the backseat I always anticipated the entrance into any big city. I knew skirting the perimeter of what jewels the city held inside, was surronded by tall abandend buildings rising into the sky.
Here is where my imagination and freedom found its sounding board. Looking high into the sky at falling out windows, and building material flapping in the wind, I saw my future nest. I was able to see past what my eyes were taking in and change it into exactely how I would build it. Now older, with a little more perspective on my shoulders, I know I needed the deconstructed visual in order to place my own dreams upon it. (this manifested 20 some years later when I acquired an empty devasted warehouse space in LA with some friends. It was a garbage filled construction zone with no walls, or bathrooms. It now thrives as an art gallery where artists live and work, where art is preserved.)
This is something that has stayed with me throughout my life. I have a small obsession with falling apart EVERYTHING! I find it utterly beautiful.
The unmasking of layers, the oxidation of physical matter, the soul of something created, morphing into something totally different.
A process so essential, so undefiable. In the decay of something, holds the potential for sooo much.
Not only in physical form, but metaphorically, in problem solving, and getting through hard times. Staring decay in the eyes can reveal so much about moving on.
I’ve been haunted by Einstein’s quote “you can’t solve a problem from the same perspective the problem was created.”
Decay is beautiful to me becasue it is a constant reminder that process is ever evolving.
When something is being created it has a motivating force behind it. Intention, passion, potentail. Problems along the way are always overshadowed by the eventual success of said creation. It is only in the decay of this that we are forced to revisit the struggle, the lessons, and the revised potential. Its a strange devise that in the success of things we rarely learn anything other than the feeling of success. The post mortem is where the decay becomes the creation
I must say, the intensity of decay never fails to effect me. I stare at decaying walls, frustration, unfairness, cruelty, and get caught in what feels like eternal claws. Then I am reminded that I’m only feeling this way because I’m looking at the decay through the lens of its creation.
This beautiful decay requires a completly different lens in order to soak in its own unique beauty. Sitting in a decaying, rotting, hot mess, cannot feel good when all we can think about is the beauty of what it was suppose to be.
To look at the deconstruction around me, within me, and see it through the eyes of my child, I again see decays potential playground…the gooey, sticky sharp decay becomes a different pile of rubble. In its complete deconstructed form comes the pallet for the next creation.
Much of the time an automatic response when we see something dissintergrating is to stop it. Preserve further wreckage. Cover up the signs of decay and carry on as if nothing is happening. But something is happening, and letting it go to its natural state. Creation to decay can be one of the most beautiful processes to exsist.
What’s your perspective on decay?
What are the hardest parts, or ways of dealing with it?
Post pics of your idea of beautiful decay!!