HAND-1

Hand-1

The Art of Reclamation and Rebirth

Hand-1 is more than just the second charcoal drawing I completed on paper; it is the first tangible step in a journey through a medium I was only beginning to understand and appreciate. Charcoal, a material that both invites and challenges, seemed to speak to me in ways that felt immediate, visceral, and profound. Yet, as with any new tool or medium, there was a need for exploration, for practice, for failure, and for reclamation. It was in this spirit of experimentation and discovery that I tore the paper.

The act of tearing the paper, of literally breaking down the surface before even drawing upon it, gave birth to something more than just a drawing. It was an invitation to engage with the process of making art in a way that felt primal, a conversation with the material itself. When I rejoined the pieces of paper, adhering them carefully to another sheet, I was, in a sense, restoring and revitalizing what was once fragmented. And so, the drawing began.

The torn paper, patched back together, creates a texture that speaks to both the history of the piece and the labour behind it. This texture, this physical manifestation of struggle and repair, adds depth, not only to the work but to the story it tells. Each fragment of paper that was torn from its place and painstakingly reassembled brings with it the essence of its rupture, a kind of visual poetry that speaks to the fragility and resilience of the creative process itself.

It’s a method I didn’t invent but one that has been used by artists before me, perhaps most famously by Frank Auerbach. Auerbach, whose relentless commitment to his craft often led him to create work that was raw and unrefined, approached his self-portraits in a way that mirrored this very process. His studio was a space where time and materials collided in a kind of glorious chaos. One of his self-portraits, a piece he worked on for over 70 sittings, became an epic of deconstruction and reconstruction. With each sitting, Auerbach would draw, scrub out, and redraw, layering marks over marks, erasing whole sections, and patching his canvas back together with bits of torn paper.

The act of tearing and rejoining, of building and deconstructing, is one that resonates deeply with me. It’s about embracing the imperfections of the creative process, understanding that it is not always about achieving a perfect, polished image. The hand, whether figuratively or literally, is the primary tool by which this transformation occurs. Auerbach’s hand was a force, guided by instinct and repeated gestures, making marks that were as much about the process of making as they were about the final image.

This notion of the hand, f the artist’s hand, working to heal, transform, and reshape the world on the page became something I could not ignore. The hand is, of course, central to all art-making. It is the instrument through which vision and intent manifest. But in the case of Hand-1 the drawing itself became a metaphor for the hand’s role in not just creating, but also reclaiming and reconstructing. The torn paper and the charcoal marks I made were not only about creating a form, but about engaging in a ritual of restoration.

Every mark I made was informed by the memory of the previous mark, by the imperfection of the torn paper and the tension of the medium. The hand, at once gentle and forceful, shaped this tension into something more than an image, it became an exploration of the way that time, touch, and materials create something altogether new.

In the context of, the physicality of the medium became integral to the emotional and conceptual depth of the piece. Charcoal itself, with its rough and smudged texture, speaks of fragility and strength in equal measure. The mark it leaves on the page is one that can be easily erased, altered, or softened, but it can also be permanent, stubborn, and unyielding. The charcoal became a metaphor for the hand’s own ability to both create and destroy, to leave behind traces of the maker that are at once undeniable and ephemeral.

It was in these traces, these fleeting moments of creation, that I found my voice. The act of tearing the paper, of destroying something only to rebuild it, felt deeply symbolic. In art, as in life, we often find that creation is not a linear, straightforward process. There are setbacks, mistakes, and moments of uncertainty. The hand may falter, the mark may not be as intended, but through those moments of failure, we learn to adapt, to rework, and to find new ways of seeing and doing.

For me, Hand-1 was not only about learning to draw with charcoal. It was about learning how to work with imperfection, how to embrace the process of making rather than focusing solely on the end result. And, in a way, it was about understanding that destruction and creation are not opposites, but are intertwined in a dynamic dance of rebirth.

When I look at Hand-1 now, I see not just a drawing but a reflection of my own artistic evolution. The texture, the layered marks, and the way the torn paper clings to the surface, it all speaks of a process that was never about perfection, but about finding beauty in the imperfect, in the fractured, in the incomplete.

It is fitting that Hand-1 is also a meditation on the role of the artist’s hand in this process. The hand is both the creator and the destroyer, the one who shapes and reforms.

The artist’s hand is central to every work, but it is especially prominent in this piece, where the paper itself has been torn and repaired by the hand, the marks left behind by the charcoal evidence of its presence and action.

Auerbach’s work, particularly his self-portraits, reveals this idea as well. His hand was constantly engaged in the struggle between creation and destruction, often reworking the same image multiple times. The hand itself became a tool of relentless experimentation, proof that making art is as much about the act of doing as it is about the image itself.

In drawing Hand-1 I found myself confronting the limits of the medium while simultaneously expanding those limits. The torn paper was both a limitation and a liberation. It allowed for new textures and new ways of engaging with the surface, but it also required me to navigate the fragility of the material. The act of rejoining the paper was not just about creating something visually interesting; it was about taking something broken and making it whole again.

The fragmented nature of the piece speaks to the fragility of both the materials and the artist’s own psyche. It is a constant reminder that the act of creating is never neat, never perfect. Each mark of charcoal, each fragment of torn paper, speaks to the broader truth that art is a process of growth and change, of creating meaning from the raw materials of the world.

As I reflect on Hand-1 I am reminded of a central truth in my journey as an artist, the act of making is always a negotiation. It is a negotiation between the self and the medium, between the hand and the material. And sometimes, as Auerbach and others have shown, this negotiation is not a smooth, linear progression. It is a messy, layered, and at times painful process of trial and error. But within this struggle lies the power of creation, the ability to shape meaning and form from the chaos of experience.

The torn paper of Hand-1 becomes a metaphor for this very process. Just as Auerbach rebuilt his portraits from layers of charcoal and torn canvas, I rebuilt my image from the fragmented pieces of paper, embracing the imperfections and embracing the tactile, physical nature of the work. In doing so, I learned something invaluable about the nature of art itself: that it is not just about what is created in the end, but about the hand that creates it and the process through which it comes into being.

Hand-1 is a testament to this journey, a journey that began with the torn paper and the charcoal mark, and that continues with each new piece, each new discovery, each new layer of meaning built upon the fragments of the past.

In the end, it is the hand that guides us through the process of creation. It is the hand that tears, that reassembles, that makes marks and erases them, that gives life to the blank page. Through the hand, we learn to transform, to rebuild, to reclaim what was once broken, and in doing so, we come closer to understanding the true nature of creation.

Please note that we no longer accept charcoal commissions. However, you can commission a custom art piece from our other art and album sections in your choice of colour (subject to availability). Each piece is thoughtfully created, ensuring no two are ever the same, just like the moments they capture. This process fosters a meaningful connection between the artist and the patron, highlighting the uniqueness of each individual’s journey through time.

Commissions Form The more information you provide, the better we can tailor the piece to your vision. Please note that commissions typically take between 2 to 6 weeks to complete.

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