ARTIST STATEMENT
The magpie…”took a single step into the air and dropped. His wings were still folded against his sides as though he were singing from a limb and not falling, accelerating thirty two feet per second, through empty air. Just a breath before he would have been dashed to the ground, he unfurled his wings with exact deliberate care, revealing the broad bars of white, spread his elegant, white banded tail, and so floated onto the grass. I had just rounded a corner when his insouciant step caught my eye; there was no one else in sight. The fact of his freefall was like the old philosophers conundrum about the tree that falls in the forest. The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.” Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker’s Creek, p.8.
For many years I have been charmed by the beauty of magpies. I pause in the street as they swoop past, momentarily stunned by their iridescent gestures of agile majesty. I am often reminded of the above quote by Annie Dillard, of that quick and spectacular moment when you witness the flash of their opening wings. I want to capture this fantastic moment.
This is a new direction for the work that I make. It’s been a little unnerving figuring out what I’m doing. I lost access to a new ceramic studio at the start of Covid which nudged me forward to explore many other mediums that didn’t need such heavy equipment. I’ve wanted to do that for a while, and am thankful for the loss of options that pushed me forward.
When I started working with leftover plywood panels, I saw so many possibilities, and that is always exciting. But the exciting start of a project doesn’t necessarily answer the completion. As I’ve been completing this collection of hand painted wood panels, I’ve been reflecting on why the magpies, why now? I felt a lot of anxiety about completing them and wondering what on earth I was doing, I really struggled towards the end as the anxiety of completion was approaching. Lost in some final painting details, a message appeared to me that made sense, an accumulation of this Magpie meditation.
It occurred to me that one of the most realized characteristics of Magpies is their need to work together, to travel together as a family group. Their hunting and defense rely on working as a team. Watching them travel across my neighbourhood I wonder how they know how to stay together. Often they break off into groups of two or three, only to meet up with the others later on. Bless this family, together or not, they always find their way back home.
What patterns direct and guide them across the land? And by what magic and unseen forces do they find each other again? It is these questions that speak to me through this wooden flock. Making the invisible visible and tangible. A story, a symbol and a message from another reality. Their feathers reach upward, reach outward, tracking each other through their longing. Always returning through this inherent force.
For me, I am not able to be with all of my family, right now. For differing reasons, we are currently separated. I feel the Magpies telling me there is a deep magic that brings us back together at the right time, that the longing points the way and the way is protected by old magical wards. It is in their nature to reconnect. I am thankful for this message and hold it close to my heart as I wait for the return.
One for sorrow, Two for joy.
Three for a girl, Four for a boy,
Five for Silver, Six for Gold
Seven for a secret never to be told.
-Old Folklore on Magpie sightings
I dedicate this body of work to my father William George Sharp. Xoxo
