The Angel of Death Has Spread its Wings Across The Land, Pastel, Charcoal, Graphite, Ink, on paper. 77 x 57 cm, 2019

This image is the first completed drawing of 2019. It had its genesis some time ago, the title coming first, gleaned from a documentary about the work of one of my key visual inspirations Cecil Collins. I recently visited the altar-piece at Chichester Cathedral that Collins created, ‘The Icon of Divine Light’, which the artist described as being “a vision of the paradise of eternal love.” However, Collins feels that our present civilisation is already far down a dark path to its own demise, and names the ‘Angel of Death.’ In Collins’ artistic vision that harbinger of annihilation is not without purpose, and offers a choice, albeit a stark one. “That Angel says unite, wake up, or perish,” which is in his view the urgency brought on by the advent of nuclear armament.

When this title first appeared in my mind it weighed quite heavily. I remember pondering this whilst walking a lengthy stretch of the Southern Uplands Way in the Scottish Borders, on a grimly overcast day. As I looked out over mile after mile of commercial forestry towards an unknown horizon, the overwhelming feeling was one of grief for what has been wrecked by human hands, it seemed clear that at some point an image would have to be made with this title. Sometimes there is nothing for it but to take the darkest matter to hand, and to try and transform it. Not to get rid, but to nurture something which attempts to honour and embody the truth of the initial impulse no matter what, whilst making something which again lives. The close relationship between grief and beauty, has always been a key element of my work, and I am continually reminded of just how important this is. 

To me grief is not the emotional quicksand that it is often thought to be, but something that is akin to a part of a process of healing, and importantly it is not the first stage, or the last. Right now in all sorts of ways we see the effect of either an inability (unconscious/de-sensitised) or unwillingness (conscscious/denial) to even experience grief for the stricken ecosystem of which we are a part (or anything else for which there is a significant sense of ‘loss’), hence inevitable malaise, and inertia. In the growing number who are open to it, the danger is that grief can harden and become stuck, sapping the creative and transformational potentials and turning that energy in on itself to the detriment of any work for change. This would be why we (in the dominant Western culture) are often taught not to feel sad, or to show that we are grieving, because it is thought of as dangerous in itself, self-indulgent, a dead end - if you’ll excuse the pun. This is true in part, but only because we often neglect to do anything with it. This would be the same attitude that would also regard ‘beauty’ as superfluous to requirements, especially at a time so seemingly laden with serious and imminent problems. So we end up with no real grief, and no beauty either. Disaster. 

In my view the trick is somewhat paradoxical in that it involves turning that apparently personal grief (‘my’ feeling) outwards and away from the solely personal. Regarding it as a presence in itself, that acts to confirm and make visible our own individual place within a vast web of being - a presence not dissimilar to that of the Angel of Death which we started with. The grief is felt, not possessed. In terms of communicating and engaging with the more than human world I would add that it is also about allowing ourselves to experience a 'non-human grief', the expression of the land, animals, plants and trees in this regard. And then to create or to do something beautiful (note: not pretty or token) that is not only for ourselves but also on behalf of, which actively and visibly transforms what has been held and nurtured personally into something for all to witness and take heart from.

Then we also have more activism, strategy, thought, inspired directly by reverence for the beauty and wonder of 'Nature.' That this combination of beauty and grief could lead to something quite powerful is worth considering. Some people engaged in noble causes can be seen to dismiss any suggestion that work with these (let's call them) substances has any real importance, and end up only raging against the human in their work to bring about change. This is the grief getting stuck, and also the unintentional embodiment of the ingrained narrative of emotional suppression that the destructive powers would want to limit us to. A forgetting of that initial impulse towards beauty and wonder that might have sparked a genuine move towards change, but has now become strangely reminiscent of the cause of the destruction that is being fought against - a great 'forgetting.' 

The title could have been with me for well over a year, I cannot recall exactly. The image itself came when I turned to walk up a path lined with ancient trees on the edge of the Eildon Hills, very vivid and clear. This was on 17th December, so it was worked on over the darkest period of the year, and through into what feels like early Spring. If you would like further details about the piece, please feel free to reply to this message. Sharing of the email is also welcome. 

Best wishes