Rule Breaker

We’re looking at Turner in my weekly art class, in the context of climate catastrophe; forest fires, flooding. He didn’t follow the rules and did whatever took his fancy. Layer upon layer, ignoring fat over lean, whiting out. A conservator’s nightmare.

We started off by looking at some imagery and then, without any further reference to it, got to work. We put down a ground with acrylic paint and then applied layers of thin oil paint and solvent with a rag.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but I ended up using a very limited palette of cadmium red light, cadmium yellow, ultramarine blue, burnt umber and some white. Once the thin paint was dry we applied glazes on top. I did a lot of wiping on and wiping off – it seems to be my modus operandi, as well as doing a lot of scratching – not particularly Turneresque, but never mind.

What do I think of it? As a study of an imaginary forest fire à la Turner, well, I think I’ve done ok. I’ve managed to create lots of layers and there is definitely some optical mixing going on. I think that I’ve managed to keep it quite loose (for me, anyway). I enjoyed putting the glazes on, colour was caught in the marks and grooves in lower layers which had been made when I had loosely put down the ground. I like that it was out of my control to a certain extent.

At the end of the day, I don’t like it. It was an exercise which I completed, I haven’t invested any of me into it, and it doesn’t do anything for me. But that doesn’t really matter because it is about trying different things, being open to new approaches and trying them out with an enquiring mind.

Putting paint on and wiping or scratching it off is something I instinctively do – it’s a very tactile way of working, and I’ve realised that it’s all about the materiality and the dialogue, which seems to be a bit of a tussle at times.

Time Capsule

She went back to uni today. She was looking forward to getting back to some normality and having independence again. The house seems empty – don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to suffer from empty nest, but there is a presence missing, along with all her stuff that seemed to have found its way into every single room of the house. The creation station that she had set up in the sitting room is no longer there – watching tv whilst she painted by numbers to try and occupy herself and at the same time rehabilitate her hand. And then the quilt, which she didn’t manage to finish before she left; she was disappointed because she wanted to have something to show for what she saw as having been a wasted summer. Never mind – she’ll complete it over the next few weeks, and it will serve as a reminder of ‘that summer’, imbued with fear, frustration, pain, resilience and hope.

It never ceases to amaze me how, in the act of making, memories and emotions are stored within the object, like a creative time capsule.

Clay!

I missed our final session, so I watched the video.

It was raining and I didn’t fancy going outside to get some proper clay, so I used my daughter’s physio putty – a silicone based non-Newtonian liquid which changes to a malleable solid with pressure. I made a little bowl.

Thinking about it, it’s very much like me: it becomes resistant when pressured, will embrace change temporarily but generally just wants to revert back to its natural state.

The exercise of feeling the material with awareness and the subsequent discussion with Alexis Rago on his experience of working with clay was particularly interesting as I’m currently researching materiality, in particular, Malafouris’ Material Engagement Theory – the act of making is a lived and relational state of becoming in which selfhood is enacted and transformed through the ongoing dialogue between the maker and the material.

You’re Turning Into Your Father

‘And what’s wrong with my father?’

’Nothing. But I didn’t marry him; I married you.’

It was our 23rd wedding anniversary yesterday. Neither of us is the same as we were 23 years ago and nor should we be according to K H Tan’s Fluctuational Identity Theory, ‘FIT’ (The Dissolution of the Self: How Ontological Instability Reconfigures Identity, Ego and the Nature of Selfhood, July 2025).

In his thesis Tan proposes a framework for understanding selfhood as a dynamic process of becoming that never achieves stable being. He argues against the notion inherent in Western traditional thinking that there is a stable foundation which grounds identity across time and change: a stable and unified self. This traditional way of thinking raises numerous fundamental issues eg how much change can happen before original identity is lost on a cellular and psychological level? When does the self come into existence? Conception? Birth? When does it come to an end? Brain death? Bodily death? It is not only incompatible with the dynamic, temporal and relational nature of existence, but our attempts to achieve a stable identity in an unstable reality could also be the cause of conflict, unhappiness, and the persistence of suffering in trying to control what cannot be controlled, the anxiety of trying to predict what cannot be predicted and the exhaustion of trying to maintain what cannot be maintained.

He is not promoting the idea of ontological instability per se, and he rejects the idea of chaotic instability (random fluctuations without pattern or direction) as these are incompatible with the coherence and continuity implicit in personal existence; we need to be able to recognise ourselves in order to be able to function. Instead he argues for creative instability. The self is not a thing that has experiences, but the ongoing process of experiencing the self; with every experience we integrate our past, our present and the possibilities of our future. It is a process of maintaining patterns while introducing variation and at the same time the self remains recognisably oneself while becoming other than what it was. The self undergoes ‘inter subject becoming’ – it is not a pregiven entity that enters into relations with others but emerges through and as a result of these relations.

He sees instability as a positive condition which encourages growth, creativity and meaning-making which would not be possible if the self were a fixed and stable entity. He considers fluctuational personas eg parent, friend, spouse, citizen, as genuine modes of being as opposed to roles and temporary performances, and as such negates the idea of authentic and inauthentic personas because all personas are genuine expressions of our capacity for becoming.

He advocates aiming for the middle ground. The more we try to define our identity the less capacity we have for growth and transformation, and too much self-awareness can lead to psychological overwhelm. Conversely, complete openness to transformation and abandoning any attempt to understand ourselves leads to a loss of any sense of identity and the continuity necessary for coherent existence, as well as disconnection from experience.

Achieving accurate self knowledge cannot as a matter of logic be achieved: we cannot bridge the gap between who we are and who we understand ourselves to be. He sees this area of misrecognition as being a ground for new possibilities of selfhood; it can become a creative force that helps us to become what we see ourselves as being. He gives examples of considering ourselves to be more creative, more confident than we are, and how this might lead to us ultimately having these attributes. Presumably the same could be said about negative attributes, but he doesn’t deal with these in any detail.

He compares traditional approaches and FIT in terms of personal development and growth including education and the effect of technology and algorithms on digital identity, psychological health, political and social implications, and human flourishing. He posits that FIT provides the framework within which we can better understand and navigate the challenges of contemporary existence.

It’s certainly an argument for revising the vows of marriage to reflect not only a change in financial status and health, but also in selfhood. Our wedding vows were in Italian and we haven’t the foggiest what we agreed to.