Gordon M Scott

The Lost Labyrinth

Fine Art

By gordonmscott, Mar 10 2015 08:14PM

Two of my solo exhibitions are separated by 25 years. The first, 'Into the Labyrinth' and the most recent, 'Into the Mysteries.'

These expositions do not describe a cycle of completion, any more than a cycle of beginning and ending. Rather they are both thresholds on transformation.

I am stunned that a quarter century separates them, and in between, a life story that has helped to season the heartwood of my being.

One might imagine that over time inspirational themes change, or at the least evolve.

However, l perceive echoes that span the gulf of years; and that is important. Circumstances carry you away on a whistle stop tour of life experience. Yet if some things stay with you, one can bet those very things have a bearing on the truth of your inner being - an answer to the disquiet; a Secret Treasure to be understood.

Lucky then, to have a collection of transparencies in (until recently) a forgotten archive. Artists are fortunate. They may weave a biography throughout their work which may become a form of Rosetta stone. A tablet, that once decoded reveals a unique narrative on one's life. Soon I can catalogue this journey. Work unseen for 25 years can deservedly hang on my website.

Of course since these works are all sold or given away, one can, provided the transparencies are good enough, commission prints.

I cannot wait!

For me, the artistic process is one of refinement. Earlier, the work was seen as, 'coarsely massive and sinister'; an intriguing statement written by art critic Clare Henry.

I used to often do canvases of 30 square feet, backed up with numerous small sized oils on paper; but sinister? If unanswered mystery lay within my work, there is a certain irony in this. It was not long before my ideas dried up, exasperation mounted and the work stalled. The reason being, I could not bring to focus the purpose and portrayal of my fascination with the feeling that some miraculous truth lay hidden in observable reality. Furthermore, with growing self doubt I was at a loss as to what particular narratives might best convey this?

Ultimately l sought an answer elsewhere, and this explains the present more positive position. How did this happen? In the intervening years came a lot of travel and researching, rather like the life of an antiquarian from over one hundred years ago. Today I carve out a manifesto in artistic narratives to elucidate the sense; all is not as it seems. Life is purposeful, and where one finds oneself on the journey is precisely where one needs to be. Crucially, the present is fulfilled not just through acceptance, but with full cooperation. This attitude frees inner vision, is insightful, and lo and behold; ideas come flooding out.

Not that this is reason to crow with pride and self assurance. On the contrary, it is humbling and my spirit is appreciative. One is surprised to be in a place unlooked for, unasked. All that remains, is to arrange life in such a way to be conducive to producing...and in this modern world that is another story.

By gordonmscott, Aug 2 2014 02:49PM

After a motorcycle crash in 1995, many things changed for me.

I had a narrow escape. A Thorasic vertebra had imploded, I had broken ribs and a collapsed lung which re-inflated during the journey to hospital in the ambulance. My spinal column was bleeding and it clotted itself in the first 12 hours. I lay in bed flat on my back for 6 weeks.

It was a slow recovery and I read and drew constantly. The hospital staff attached a small mirror on a flexible arm to my bedhead, and I completed a series of self portraits in pencil which remain together to this day.

Along with the crash, my personal life collapsed too. Love it seemed was not to last on this occasion.

Within 3 years of my healthy recovery I had almost stopped all art practise. The internal conflicts and mourning just interfered, and self doubt sealed the slow retreat of creativity from my world.

Sure, the occasional painting did find its way onto canvas, but I was disillusioned.

Such was my reflex of self protection, that any mention of art and arting would see me heap scorn on all suggestion of art having value, point and purpose.

Slowly but surely, other physiological symptoms crept up on me. My heart began to develop frequent arrhythmia that came and went without warning. Yet it steadily increased. Outpatient testing revealed no physical cause and dietry modifications produced no improvement. Laterly, I was having irregular beating and pounding of the heart every 5 seconds.

Gradually I returned to drawing in a quiet way.

Within 3 months my heart would regularise for longer periods of time. As I stuck at the art, so too the heart became solid and steady until all symptoms dissappeared altogether. I was discharged and the consultant suggested that I had found my own clinical cure. Don't stop being creative. And so it is to this day.

Beforehand, I would not have given much thought to the connection others had found between Art and Therapy. It has been proven to me in a very stark fashion.

4 years later and Art has become the bright centre of my life. Not only that, but without any overt pressure on myself, I have many many ideas for painting narratives. The count now is in excess of 50 clearly outlined paintings and this doea not include the attendant avenues of exploration that each work may provide.

I stand before a wide landscape of mystery and imagination. Below me amongst the trees, a voice is calling, "Wayfarer come home!"

By gordonmscott, Jul 27 2014 03:37PM

This painting is my first large work in several years. At 5ftx4ft it echoes my large works of the 1990's. However, more attention to discipline and detail has resulted in a stronger work.

The content is inspired by a family myth. My great great grandfather who was involved in the early developments of radio through John L. Baird was 'lost' up the Amazon Basin on an expedition.

Here my own imagined character Dr. James E. Mowatt leads us toward a mythic valley.

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