Winding, weaving, and wondering
What I am coming to know, Pearl Tang, 8 October 2024, Mixed media installation.
The sound of rain pelting the parapet accompanies the rhythmic clacks of fingers on keypads. There a proposal to be done up soon and, in my usual fashion of meandering, have decided to accompany my thoughts as they wander along the margins of my mind.
In anticipation for my very first art residency in HANGAR, I have spent the past four months focusing on coming up with something concrete that would elevate my career or, at the very least, shine a little light on my works. My intentional and purposeful search had instead led me to dead ends: a general mismatch with charcoal and not quite moved by the detailed gong bi style of chinese painting. It is not so much the aesthetics, but rather, the sense of stasis…or permanence of ink bleeding into paper fibres … that has dampened my excitement in creating with these materials. Or perhaps it is the very expectation to produce an “aesthetically” beautiful work validated by virtual hearts that marred the joy of simply immersing oneself in the art making process.
And why art? Why not an expression?
Having sat with these hiccups, I find myself retracing back to my time doing paper collages and weaving a little piece during a Saori workshop. Following the little criss-crosses of lines and thoughts, I noticed a common thread in most of my current works and expressions: Textures. The tactility that emerged in the process of making brought me to art therapy and the focus on sensitivity in both material and in one's lived experiences. My journey as an art therapist in training that resulted in many many little collages and reliquaries erected and torn apart over hours, days, and months. Sometimes, little bits and bobs reappear in newer shrines as support or symbols. The cyclical process reflects my obsession with rupture and repair – and a running theme of creating through various mediums just to put them aside and return to them later – that has nudged me towards the direction of textiles and weaving.
Wondering, Pearl Tang, 12 October 2024, Mixed media installation.
Textiles embody contradictions and I am particularly curious about the tension arising between control and unpredictability as one mediates between loom and yarn and body and skin. Growing up, my mother would often cover up furniture with cloths and mats, sometimes both, in order to preserve their looks. As a result, these coverings become part of the furniture and each are texturally charged. The plastic mats are waxy, the lace both delicate and firm, the shawls with patches of faded colours under years of sunlight. Sometimes, the heat or the damp still manages to eat into the surfaces forming little white spots despite my mother’s attempts at keeping her beloved belongings pristinely perfect. These woven skins cover, reveal, protect, and also embody stories, time, and hope. I, myself, am drawn to weaving and the meditative rhythm of passing shuttle through yarns without the pressing need to reach a destination. The very process of making brings me to a landing either through feeling or when the yarn runs out. Even so, there is always the option of unwinding and a retracing of paths unfamiliar and letting go of expectations to just wonder.
Witnessing a landing, Pearl Tang, 6 October 2024, Mixed media installation.
This sense of seemingly aimless meandering parallels my current experience of being in the middle of my studies in art therapy and starting out as a behaviour therapist. The wonder mingles with worry as the future is unknown and both my career and finances appear uncertain considering the nature of my job and the choices that I have made. Yet, amongst the fearful ruminations of potential ruin, I am reminded that wealth is not singular in definition.
I stumbled onto the words of Qie Ci, a Chinese monk from the 10th Century, that speaks to me: "To take a step back is actually to move forwards". (Coincidentally, I found out his nickname is Cloth bag monk, so I suppose we are really leaning into theme of textiles here.) While it truly has been a step back in all aspects of my life, I also think the retracing of steps to explore what I have overlooked and allowing myself time to follow these little threads of curiosity has brought me to many places. My life is now a richer tapestry of woven experiences coloured by what I value. What I come to know of as knowledge... as knot-ledge… as not-ledge is but an infinite stretch of possibilities within and beyond grasp. Each strand reaches out and into the distance and it leads me to wonder.
So here I am, wandering... a word which is has West Germanic origins related to winding...a gesture like weaving a needle through yarn. Stepping into the process of being present to the emergent, I am open to possibilities and alternatives. It is as Chuang Tzu discussed in The Inner Chapters, that with the abandonment of fixed goals and dissolution of rigid categories, one is able to roam freely over ever-changing panoramas and encounter responses that spring from the energies within us (Tzu & Graham, 2001). Likewise, I am moving away from conventional notions of success and art ...and instead, am stepping onto the less trodden paths that bring wonder tinged with a mixture of other feelings in all their richness. Can I combine printmaking with weaving? What is textile? How can I apply my skills into my work as an art therapist? Will my neurodiverse clients take to it? Will they be touched by the process of making? Where do I go from here?
Like the wind weaving through the window grills, my thoughts wander through inner landscapes and daunting worldly challenges. But for now, I breathe my dreams into the tunes of a loom.
Close up of What I am coming to know, Pearl Tang, 8 October 2024, Mixed media installation.
Reference
Tzu, C. (2001). The Inner Chapters (A. C. Graham, Trans.). Hackett Publishing Company, Inc.