Dissertations
It has been a number of years since my academic studies ended and now as an invitation to discussion and as to create a better understanding of the artist behind the work of notbobs I present excerpts from my dissertations. It is my intention that with some re-editing the text here will build to represent the full discussion of my work and in doing so I gratefully acknowledge all those who have influenced my efforts and hope that those who have been quoted will find the piece complimentary along with my many thanks.
Paul Blake Ba Hons Ma
An Introduction To Greatness
The wooly jumper, worn and tired, slouched over the edge of a canteen table, fighting against the innevitable in an attempt to hold itself together. Regardless of it's loose ends, the jumper comfortably held inside the body of a man who was not yet close to the border of middle age. In his hand writhed a foam cup from which coffee was bravely trying to escape with obvious enthusiasm. Two eyes were pulled by an unseen force from word to word of a coffee soaked newspaper while, dragging his hands across his face, the figure sat trying to smudge away the lure of the ink on his eyes. In a futile gesture to break free, he ruffled his hands through his hair, serving only to add to the static charge already crackling through the thorny growth. Wild eyes burned with a glimmer of intensity that might serve as a caution to be aware of while traveling the isolated stairwells and lonely corridors of the college.
In the early days of my study as an artist I was taught by a man who by the definitions of most men was clearly not a grounded character. My earliest memory of him serves as a testament to the rash conclusion that perhaps this was a person not entirely on speaking terms with reality. However first impressions are seldom wholly accurate.
Three or four days later the same man stood in front of me upon a stage wearing the mask of my lecturer in Art History and Philosophy. Still he moved in a frenzy, stalking across the stage, between the rows of seats in the lecture theatre, only becoming quiet when met with an uncomfortable halt, and like a clockwork monkey, sprang to chattering life as his mental key was wound by the verbal prompt of his audience. It became apparent that the dark motivation that afflicted him was a love of art and philosophical thought. A burning desire to ask questions that could not be chained to an answer. He was a person who in some long dead day would have been imprisoned for the dangerous thoughts that he so freely scattered as seeds of inspiration among the young. There could have been no mistake that his thoughts were dangerous. In a debate that would question the finite or infinite realms of mankind’s imagination and self-determination he casually pointed out that it was within our area of control to leap out of the open window before us that let the evening breeze refresh our senses. For the rest of that lecture dancing beams of inviting, nymph-like sunshine tempted everyone's eyes to the portal that lead to a pleasant summer's journey and an abrupt conclusion. More dangerous than the fatal drop was the awareness that we as people have far more control over our own destinies than in comparison to the control held over us by other mortal men. More deadly than a vision of suicide was the realisation of mental freedom.
Here was man who was both enlightened and eccentric, sharing his brilliance equally between the two.
So where do the lines of genius, insanity and eccentricity meet, blur and overlap. High motivation and a will to support personal beliefs could be perceived as insanity by those who do not share a similar perspective and visionary insight by those who in retrospect grow from the results. Can we with an open mind hope to define with solid borders these states of human existence.
As a child and still on occasion, no doubt in the same manner of most people who hope to grow from time to passing time, I have felt the sense of a mind misunderstood. Even though it is said that those who question their sanity, still maintain a grip upon it, I wonder with tongue in cheek where sanity could possibly hide within a mind shared with the myriad of creations that I have brought to life in my work as an artist. I have wondered if these were created from within myself as tools to channel my emotions and thoughts in order to preserve the essential “self”. Or are they gifts of creativity and inspiration which if original have the consequence of the label eccentric. So it is with this in mind that I hope to undertake a personal journey. I ask what is the nature of the relationship between insanity, genius and the artist’s experience.
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Dissertations.
Articles on art, design and our experience.
For the first time online a "director's cut" version of the academic work behind the professional experience is available to view. We look forward to hearing the views of our colleagues and clients and until then submit chapters from the dissertations that earned our qualifications.