The whirly thing

 

                         Drop x Drop studies ink and pen on paper

How does a drop appear, visually, to the naked eye, not as a still image (as in stop motion photo) and how simply I can expose this to allow recognition.

This drawing is made in the process of looking closely at how surface tension changes and reacts as an accumulation of drops disturb its silence.

A moment of change...a micro force, drop by drop, how do these physical laws appear to the eye? 

How tiny differences connect and evoke recognition remains my motivation and the concerns I am investigating here. How through drawing I might enquire and communicate the little differences I find. Simple basic art materials such as fluid charcoal, dust, ink, chalk, graphite, paint, generate a process.

Space, time, motion, mechanics

Making a series of immediate studies from that instant, each drop individual. Energy forms change as they spread, altering from one form to another. Disrupting surface tension, gravity affecting forms and deforming, multiplying or disapating, spread, each repeat, interaction differs. There is symmetry in this natural force. 

Nothing ever stays the same.

Molecular to Monumental

'The Whirly Thing' 

Part of Drop x Drop series 2022-23

Charcoal and graphite on paper

My work is about our visual acceptance of what we see as we move about the shifting landscape and how this can be recalled by the most minimum of information activating a memory.

My friend Helen and I had plenty of space to explore as a child, we enjoyed walking around the local canals and woodland.

There was a place between the brook and canal that kept drawing us back. 

The whirly thing!

A perfect round void, Its noise pulling us closer, the roaring sound of this vorticular compelling us to see more.

Its edge unprotected and clearly dangerous. We move slowly towards it trying to get closer each time.

Water rushes over a wide flat rim that appears strangely still but vertiginous. it poures down into the deep fierce round weir. 

'L'appel du vide' (the call of the void)

That visual memory remains with its greatest fear of the unknown end.