The Medium Is The Message Or The Question Of Identity


During my university final exam when I was defending my thesis entitled Write Me A Painting, professor Ž asked me whether there was a particular ideology behind the title. I could easily have named the thesis the other way around, like Paint Me a Letter. I answered I was aware of that, but back then I saw myself as a calligrapher, a writer of paintings. I don't know, perhaps I saw both titles as the other side of the same coin.

I used to write with a broad nibbed pen or a flat brush, closely following the rules of calligraphy. When I started painting, I incorporated my calligraphy into my paintings. I wrote with a brush, using acrylic paint on canvas. I started thinking about what I was. Was I a calligrapher or a painter? Slowly I stopped writing, although letters remained my subject matter. Than something happened, I'm not quite sure what it was, but writing with a pen gradually made me nervous. I used to be patient, writing for hours non-stop was never a problem. A couple of weeks ago I picked up my pen and couldn't wait to finish. I didn't enjoy writing anymore. I just might have silently crossed the line separating the two worlds, simply by changing the tools I work with.

Dear professor Ž, after three years I'd like to answer your question again. It's not the other side of the same coin, but I guess you knew that all along. A calligrapher writes paintings while a painter paints letters. The question of identity is not a dilemma anymore. However, another question arose: what now...



*

Na zagovoru diplomske naloge z naslovom Napiši mi sliko, me je profesor Ž vprašal kakšna je ideologija za naslovom, če sploh je. Prav tako bi lahko nalogo poimenovala Naslikaj mi črko. Moj odgovor je bil, da se tega zavedam, vendar sem se takrat videla kot kaligrafinjo, kot nekoga, ki piše slike. Ne vem, morda sem celo oba naslova videla kot dve strani istega kovanca.

Nekoč sem pisala s kovinskim peresom s prirezano konico, pravila kaligrafije pa sem jemala zelo resno. Ko sem začela slikati, sem v slike vključevala kaligrafijo. Pisala sem s ploščatim čopičem, z akrilnimi barvami na platnu. Počasi se mi je pojavljalo vprašanje kaj sem, kaligrafinja ali slikarka. Sčasoma sem nehala pisati, čeprav so črke ostale moj motiv. Potem se je nekaj zgodilo. Ne vem točno kaj je bilo, vendar me je pisanje s peresom vedno bolj nerviralo. Nekoč sem bila potrpežljiva, pisati ure in ure brez prestanka zame ni bila nobena težava. Pred nekaj tedni sem želela napisati pet vrstic besedila in kar nisem mogla dočakati konca. Pisanje mi ni več bilo v veselje. Kaj pa vem, morda sem samo z menjavo orodij, ki jih uporabljam, tiho prestopila mejo, ki ločuje oba svetova.

Dragi profesor Ž, naj po treh letih ponovno odgovorim na vaše vprašanje. Ne gre za drugo stran istega kovanca, vendar se mi dozdeva, da to že vseskozi veste. Kaligraf piše slike, medtem ko slikar slika črke. Vprašanje identitete ni več dilema. Kljub temu pa se je pojavilo novo vprašanje: kaj zdaj ...


Komentarji

Priljubljene objave iz tega spletnega dnevnika

Ne daj se, dušo

Gotske refleksije

Kačji pastir