When I painted Couple Tree (above) I gave myself permission not to think about what I was doing, to let the brushstrokes do what they wanted; to let the painting emerge. I am pleased with the result. Sometimes, it is best to let what you know and believe emerge without passing through the filter of your conscious mind. There is so much insight in the subconscious, in the apparently chaotic. But that insight needs to be competently expressed, if it is to ring with truth. So how do you do this – what is it to competently achieve without exerting control?
Here’s a story that brings this to life for me.
You have gone to a regatta, a rowing competition. It is a sunny day, glittering water, knife-like boats and athletic bodies; the tinkle of wine glasses. The spectators are dressed up, drinking fizz; picnicking on the river bank.
As you arrive, a race is underway. It’s for single handers, scullers. There’s nothing yet to see here at the finish line, the start line is further up river.
The lead sculler appears. Her boat slides like oil on the surface of the water. Oars sweeping, she glides smoothly and slowly back and forth along the slide; effortless. The scull moves silently, no hurry, like a waterboatman in its element. She crosses the finish line, smiles, smooths back her hair, pauses for a moment, then calmly pulls in to the landing stage.
Some thirty second pass. The runner up appears. She is all work, grinding out the tempo, pulling the oars through the strokes, forcing the boat through the water. You can see the concentration on her face; you can see her counting the time; you can see the sweat on her back and her face. She is the picture of effort; the boat is straining for speed, this is an impressive display of hard work. She crosses the line, collapses forward over her oars, completely spent.
What is the difference between the two? It is not technical ability. Both rowers are competent: they know how to row. Raw talent, physique, and equipment sometimes have a part to play. But in this case, the difference is down to control. For the first, rowing has become a natural endeavour. She is unconsciously competent. She does not have to think about doing what she does because she knows how to do it so well. She can concentrate on relaxing into her race, channelling her energy, feeling the joy of the moment she is in, responding to the micro signals of the water, the wind, her body. The second woman is consciously competent: she is thinking about her technique, straining her body to get it to do what it should do, feeling the stresses of every stroke.
I am all the time learning what it is to be in this world, to be what I should be, how to paint. It seems to me that the great thing is to work towards unconscious competence – to learn, then not to be burdened by your knowledge; to be, and not to be burdened by being anything in particular; to allow yourself to ride your own chaos. There are patterns in chaos, if you are able to listen.
Peter Gelf 