The lost rocks speak of another world from this one, an age long forgotten, a story untold. Like shards of a one magnificent mural, one big picture that wants to be put back together again. Like artifacts they exist as a testament to the illusion of time, the building blocks of life and the story that binds them. Blending symbols, forms and pictographs, they blur this reality. What is real? Your mind or this world? An optical sculpture- A window into a world behind the rock - a link between rock art of ancient peoples and the present world. A memory, an instant.
Materials and process
The materials used are all natural, found and collected by hand in the Groot Marico area of the Northwest Province in South Africa. The earth there is in some places compacted into layers of "slate", and in other areas broken shards of soft claylike earth. The earth becomes the paint and the slate becomes the canvas. Finding harmony between the rocks natural forms and new forms drawn, becomes the fine line that the artist must navigate - Letting the rock speak for itself. Charcoal from burnt trees are used for shadows and darker areas as the artist optically sculpts the forms.
A collaboration between MAX and Christopher Dowding...
with Thanks to Nick for these close-ups
But the World has been lost, the nothingness has consumed all that is. But only a specific kind of music can open the true beauty of this reality.
The oldest story evertold began on a day much like this one- a little while ago, exactly 600 biliion years before these very words entered your perception. A moment before time, a delicate instant, when thought worlds did not yet exist, when space had a distinctly grey tone, and everything was rather dull.
It was then, that the first idea of life was conceived, he was the son of Hubris(death) and Isis(creation)- life was his meaning, his purpose, his inspiration. A fast learner, his perception of the world grew rapidly. Crossing space and time, knowledge raced towards his fiery mind. And with each impact, it intensified his chaotic complextion. Criss crossing charismatic complex curves. Over many lightyears he travelled, his form grew, his rays were long and golden, his eyes of fire.
He left a trail of light, a from of energy that you cannot touch but only see and feel. This light carried with it, a resonance. A tone. A harmonic frequency. Vibrating life into everything it touched, filling hearts with joy.