The magic of Creation

Here I am. 

Standing in front of a large table; newsprint spread out, thumbtacks prepared, frame ready, paintbrushes on standby, tjanting tool waiting and a hot pot full of wax. I turn it on. My newly purchased piece of cloth is smooth and cool in my hands, the silky material shining softly with each movement I make. I tack it to the frame. Stretched out, the white fabric stares at me - barren, desolate and unfeeling. It is begging for me to give it a body and a personality, waiting for me to give it life.

                   

This is how all my batiks are born. I start with “nothing.” I must create “something.” Through the use of line, shape, color and texture, I transform a lifeless void into an expression of myself. My design flows not from a specific artistic or intellectual process, but rather from an emotional place deep inside. At the beginning is excitement and anticipation over the endless possibilities but also fear and doubt of the unknown. The end is full of accomplishment, pleasure or disappointment. It is here that I meet myself anew and see how I have developed, grown and changed.

                                     

As an artist, I know that in between start and finish, preparation and completion, there is the dynamic journey of creation – a road full of twists, turns and detours. Every decision I make requires the courage to take action. The success or failure of each action limits and defines the next possible decision and action. This is the process used in creating a design on cloth with wax and dye, the media in which I use to discover and express myself.

                                    
Each application of molten wax to my canvas takes bravery I didn’t even know I possessed. It is hard not to be nervous when I know that it does not matter whether I chose to paint it on with a brush, draw it out with a special tjanting tool or stamp it on with a metal tjap, the instant the wax touches the cloth it will penetrate and harden, leaving no possibility for second chances. For the sake of my art, I am forced to be confident and decisive. Too much hesitation will cause the wax to drip and any anxious quivering would prove disastrous.

                         

My hard work is revealed with the immersion of the fabric into the dye bath. The wax acts as a resist, preventing the dye from entering the cloth in the waxed areas. Watching my design appear from beneath the inky waters gives me a sense of the same exhilaration Dr. Frankenstein felt for his creation and I barely suppress the urge to raise my arms up to the sky, tilt my head back and shout, “it’s alive…. it’s aliiiiiiiiiivvvee!” For there is no doubt in my mind that a batik is an animate being, with a mind and soul of its own. The design takes shape with the first waxing, comes alive with the first dyeing and each step thereafter adds a new visible dimension. I am constantly interacting with my work, changing with each step of the process.
 
                                   

No matter how careful I am, a batik will always assert its will, leaving me with designs that are not part of my original plan. The crackle and drips of wax are impossible to control, the color - derived from both the original color and that of the dye bath - impossible to predict. This sense of mystery is further increased by the layer of wax concealing the true colors underneath. Only when the wax is removed and the veil lifted is the spell broken and the work revealed in its true form. It is when I am able to accept the power of batik as separate from mine that my work reaches its full potential.

                               

Click here for more WORK IN PROGRESS