Art and the Crow


 

The other day I was just sitting on the back porch thinking about taking risks in art. My attention was drawn to a crow balancing on the tiniest twig at the top of a tree next door. It was holding on, blowing back and forth in the wind , looking like it was going to fall off at any minute. Then a puff of wind came and the crow lifted off.

Did the crow decide that the moment was right to take off? Or, did the lift of wind tell the crow to respond by flapping its wings? I liked what my husband had to say when we were talking about it later: “Having waited that long in limbo helped the crow maximize its options. So when the gust came along, the crow was ready to keep its appointment with the wind.”

Tim Hawkesworth (one of my revered art teachers) often says that an artist needs to catch the updraft. Although I’ve always liked the way that sounds, I’ve never quite understood what it means. Maybe the point is that the moments that feel most precarious are the ones that have the most possibilities. When you feel that you’re falling (confused, flailing) that’s the time to release your grasp and fly! But you have to pay attention, hang in there, and know when to let go.

Going out on a limb is much safer in painting than in real life. Purposely dripping red paint all over your precious drawing is terrifying, but different from going out and buying that yacht on a whim! Doing it on a symbolic level replaces one’s desire to do it in real life. And yet, what’s weird is that it often feels just as risky to the artist. Like jumping off the branch, unsure if you have the power of flight.