New soil often means new robust growth ,although there may be a period of adjustment to altered temperatures, different pH or minerals . Life thrives on the simple things – the early morning sun rays,a rain shower ,an earthworm’s gentle munching or the autumn leaves blanketing the earth. Periodically the elements demand abstinence, endurance, obeisance and give nothing back. Months of searing drought and harsh extremes,become impetus for renewal.
Planting aloes is one of those things I do in these times.My personal totem of tenacity and vigor. They survive the worst ,and flourish again. I plant them and I paint them. They are vital ,real and beat closely with this earth’s creative heart. They survive without water for ages…
The Art world is multifarious ,transitional: in the spectrum from truth to sophistry, honesty is forgotten in the upper stretches of the commercial field, or investment art. I long to return to base. Sometimes I do encounter a work of art that is unsullied by the untruths of money and prestige , and my heart recognises it joyfully. I feel the allure of the veldt, sirensong echoing softly across the halls of art.
More often at art festivals and exhibitions I have felt that beast of nature, broiling underneath, rumbling and erupting in domestic squabbles and petty jealousy: artists with fear of failures and of being left out; mega rich folks who fight over who should pay the bill; couples who spit hard words at each other and others who are ignored. I am sure tears fall somewhere. Opinions about social relevance and didactic effect are cast about for people to hear,masterfully drowning out other quieter ones; titular boxes are pronounced and super ego judgments levied.
Not all is lost. Sometimes real events occur Some from the higher echelons have proclaimed their religion amongst the startled awakened . There have been reunions and break ups; copious cups of wine and coffee, hangover breakfasts and snacks shared; divas have commandeered audiences ; genial artists conjured up fantastical costumes from fresh foliage ,to adorn shaking bodies ready to fall like leaves in a storm. Goodness and enthusiasm radiate from a few as if they are first timers at this festival game, immune to cynicism and “feesvoosheid.”
Such is life and growth in art and plants.
Paintings by Janet Dixon, except second one on this page “Mountain Love” by Ina Marx and detail taken fron Francois Tiran’s “Lily and Rose.”
Image on front page- “Uprooted” oil on canvas
First image on first page “Ferocious” Oil on Canvas.
Janet Dixon | Artist 