Beginning Again, Over and Over

One of the activities that I have participated in for many years is a Jewish Arts Collective (JAC). An earlier group which began in 2012 was known as the Jewish Artists Lab and has since morphed into this newer version. Together with my interest in family history, I have often credited it with bringing me into the broader Jewish community.  

I recall I was originally hesitant to sign up, concerned that as a secular Jew, perhaps I wasn’t “Jewish enough.” In fact, it proved to be one of those turning points in my life that opened up new perspectives and doorways into my art, as well as a deeper understanding of what it means to be Jewish.

 

So, what do we do in a Jewish arts collective? We have a topic each year that frames up our study. We work with rabbis, teachers and other facilitators, exploring that topic through Jewish and secular texts. At the end we have an exhibition of artwork that we have created related to that theme. The artwork can take many forms because the artists who are involved work in many mediums. We have painters and writers, dancers and musicians, and many who work in multiple mediums. I have done paintings, collages, poetry, and story over the years.

 

This year, we have the theme of Beginning Again. This is a particularly apt theme for me because I’ve had little time to focus on my artwork. Recently I took on some significant responsibilities in the Jewish genealogy organizational world that have absorbed much of my time. When I get to my studio, I am often beginning again, over and over again.

 

The challenge with artwork is that it requires a runway of time. It is an exploration, and I don’t always know where I’m going to end up. In that way, it is very different than many of my career pursuits which drove to a conclusion, Artwork has a different process. It unfolds and not always on my schedule. When I step away from it, it requires a process of re-engagement. Beginning again is a very apt topic for me and I’ve been thinking about how I do that. 

 

I need only look around my studio to remind myself. When I evaluate my more recent work, I note that nature plays a significant role often creating abstracted forms. As I go through my day, I take photos of anything that I find visually interesting ––things like ice melting on a lake as our seasons change. When I’m trying to jumpstart myself, I often will work in a smaller format, sometimes incorporating collage.  I am interested in transition and imagery that lends itself to abstraction, unusual imagery that forces me to pay attention.

We hold open studios throughout the year. Visitors come through and I tell stories about my work. After one of our recent open studios, the artists were invited to visit each other’s studios, something we seldom have time to do during open studios. On that visit, I was fascinated by a studio in which the windows had iced over as the sun set behind them, resulting in very interesting abstractions, imagery of ice, forming, cracking, reflecting and somewhat altered imagery of a sunset peeking through the ice. While the artwork in that studio was quite intriguing, my focus was out the window.

I began to do larger paintings based on that imagery. I really liked them. They felt mysterious. But I wasn’t sure where they fit within my artwork relative to theme. Nor was I especially sure if they fit for Beginning Again although they did indeed represent my efforts in doing just that.  Now let me confess, I have been known to take what I do and fit it to a theme in the artists' group. When we did a theme on water, I found parallels with memory, a theme I was working with, and incorporated that into my exhibition piece. After all, creativity is about linking seemingly disparate ideas by finding the common elements that join them.

  

                                                                                                                                     

My first thought was that sunsets seem to relate more to endings than beginnings. Now, if I had a sunrise, perhaps I could incorporate that. And then I had an epiphany. Every beginning in Judaism starts with a sunset. We celebrate our holidays beginning in the evening.             

                                                  

I began to research this concept, beginning with the creation story. Darkness was there at the beginning when God said that classic line, “Let there be light,” speaking it into being and separating, differentiating, light from darkness, and naming, light Day and darkness, Night. Then there is this very interesting line–– "and there was evening and there was morning, one day." Note that we begin with evening, the darkness that was there at the beginning.

My further reading underscored that in Jewish tradition the day begins at sunset (erev), not dawn. The Hebrew calendar has a sunset-to-sunset cycle. That beginning represents the darkness and transition that are the source of potential and renewal. So maybe the sunset is more of a beginning than one might think. And perhaps it will find its way into the exhibition.