Page from the Artist’s Journal 12.6.19 “On Loan to the Newport Art Museum”

I was born in December, a month prematurely, and have rarely been early for anything else in my life. Yet here in December, almost to the day of my birth, I once again arrived early and waited in my car outside the Newport Art Museum for the appointed time to deliver my selected work for mounting in the 2020 Newport Annual. It was the last moment I would be alone with that work, my “Loft of Infinity”, and I cherished it like a mother driving her child to school for the first time. I chanted the mantra I used to consecrate the work in my studio, knowing that sealed in that frequency and intention we would remain not separate Artist and creation, but one and the same; one aura, one breath, one Consciousness, and one continuous expression of infinite Light. I also realized in that moment the extent to which having the courage to share my work more widely meant sharing myself more widely too, and that my remote NH existence would never be the same. I suddenly understood that wherever my images were installed and resonated, a part of me would be there too, expanding in unfamiliar worlds, and lighting new spaces and new minds whether I was physically present or not. I recognized that a life spent refining one’s awareness and inner perception; having the devotion and discipline to align one’s mind with the flow of creative energy and one’s heart with the Source of Light itself was the true art, and what was projected in my images was “its” reflection. I did not cling to familiar subjects and objects in my work, and I did not cling to a limited human identity or conditioned definition of either matter or the self. Within the finite limits of the physical, I continued to seek and discover a greater, more infinite totality, and I never felt more grateful for being given the passion not just to create, but to tangibly translate an experience of more unlimited potentiality.

It was the first hour on the first day for delivering our pieces to the museum, and I was the first Artist to appear. Two young women waited inside, very professionally prepared and organized with all the necessary loan agreement forms to be signed. Behind them was the door to a room with white draped tables set up like a surgery suite. Here the works would be unwrapped and inspected, and I would release “Loft of Infinity” with a mixture of joy and separation anxiety into their care. After careful unwrapping, one museum assistant placed my work against an adjacent wall and standing back fixed her eyes upon it. Before I could exit the room, she began to describe her visceral response aloud. “It is doing something to me”, she exclaimed, “I am standing on the ground and yet moving through space, like some strange kind of vertigo…how can that be?” I smiled and said, “You work around art and are obviously sensitive to its frequencies. This image is a subtly attuned work and something you may not have felt before; an experience that is not just physical, more than thought and more than emotion.” At first, she seemed a bit uneasy trying to grasp a feeling so unexpected and unfamiliar, but then curious and excited. “Think of the image not as an inanimate object,” I said, “but a field of subtle experience; an opening to a more expanded space and awareness that helps you understand you are more than the limits you know. Remember this feeling, it will nurture what is yet unknown within the self and may in time inspire you to question and explore more of the mystery and undiscovered possibilities of your precious humanity.” It would not be the first time that viewers of my work commented they lost certainty of what objects were being portrayed or felt disoriented by the vantage point of the images. But mine is not an art of the familiar meant to strengthen or reinforce what anchors us to the past and present, rather an engagement through which we may begin to excel beyond the boundaries of what is concretely known. They are impressions which challenge the frame of our pre-conceptions and carry us beyond fear and duality into a world of yet unrealized potential. They offer a way within, between intellect and intuition, the visible and the invisible, where the subjects are not physical forms in nature, rather the Space, Energy and Intelligence from which their existence flows and is sustained. It has always been my intention that they offer a way beyond the frame of the physical senses for those who seek the power and peace of a more unlimited perception of reality and a deeper understanding of our multidimensional, universally networked human totality.

Before leaving I visited one of the jewels of the Newport Art Museum’s permanent collection, immersing myself in the colors of Howard Gardiner Cushing’s paintings; especially the prominent turquoise and pink. His subjects were of less interest, but the hues were courageous and pure, connecting me with the turquoise and pink of Emily Mason’s later work. I stood still for a moment in that intuited sea of color, my mind clearer with each luminous wave. I felt close to Mason, who had painted for so many springs and summers listening to the voice and light of our shared New England nature. A woman in her 80’s who still kept her signature pigtails as if they held the youthful innocence that enabled her to see and paint a Nature beyond conditioned forms. I had no idea in only four days she would be gone. The museum staff person seated outside the gallery was very knowledgeable about Cushing’s works and also began to share some of the architectural history of the museum. “The large open gallery in the adjoining Griswold House”, she said, “was originally the barn stable belonging to the house.” I asked her to repeat it for I wasn’t sure I heard it correctly. “So, one of the galleries where the Newport Annual 2020 will be mounted was originally a barn?” I asked. “Yes”, she confirmed. I could not have imagined a more perfect alignment of an artist’s work and exhibition space. In a universe of uncountable possibilities, surely it was no coincidence that my image of a barn loft of infinite dimensions would be shared in a space that was first conceived as a barn stable, and like my work had also transcended its original form to serve a more unlimited community and purpose.

Image Insert: “Snowdrop” 2016 by Emily Mason (Jan 12, 1932-Dec 10, 2019)

Deborah GoudreaultDecember 19, 2019