Xavi Bou's images of the flightlines of birds
 

Apologies if anyone has shared Xavi Bou's work before, but I love it & was looking at it again this morning - his photographs and films capture the flight lines of birds, literally making tracks in the sky. For me, they look beautiful, and also form an other-worldly language of their own:

https://xavibou.com/

Sarah-Jane

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This is the first I've seen his work or heard of him, so thank you for that. I'm excited for tomorrow to come so I can resume looking around at his remarkable art. (It's getting late here and I want to see this with fresh eyes)

Starling murmurations come to mind, which is live performance art.

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Thanks for this, Sarah-Jane, and thanks Jim, too. I enjoyed both of your links. They also put me in mind of some shoals of fish that swirl around together in a similar way to the birds.
Fascinating stuff!

Jayne

Thanks for the link, Sarah-Jane, those are incredible pictures.

I found his print catalogue which makes for easy viewing of quite a lot of them: https://xavibou.com/prints_.pdf (Well out of my price range, alas!)

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"Ornitographies is a balance between art and science; a nature-based dissemination project and a visual poetry exercise but above all, an invitation to perceive the world with the same curious and innocent look of the child we once were"


This concept strikes at the heart of two things I carry with me always:
The concept that children think like artists (that Picasso quote comes to mind)
The concept of re-awakening and then retaining the child that goes into hibernation within us as our worldly experiences pile up and then, having re-kindled that child-like spirit, continuing to nurture that childlike perception of the world all our lives.

I think my favorite poets here have that quality.

Just the other day we were having lunch outside on a perfect summer afternoon with friends at a restaurant. They had a nine year-old daughter who was a pleasure to be around and observe. Every one of her movements, expressions, etc. were animated with a kind of art-filled exuberance that children possess. For example, she became antsy after a while and so began to look around the patio we were eating on and saw birds hoping around on the ground and in the bushes and flowers at the periphery. She hopped down out of her tall chair, stooped down and began following the birds, talking to them, holding her hands out as if they might want to sit and rest in them awhile — all done as if she were invisible to us grownups having grownup conversations and preoccupied with the food on our plates. She was very good-natured and at one point during the meal she declared dramatically that she was going to the bathroom and that when she returned she would be a different person. She slid down her tall chair with a sly smile on her face and disappeared inside. A few minutes later when she returned with a self-conscious smile on her face her mother said to her, "Are we to believe you are now someone else?" She said something like. "No, it's me. I changed my mind. I like being myself."
If I could talk to, be with children for a while every day I would be happy.

Here is a poem I wrote — a kind of ekphrastic — as I looked at the collection of ornitography created by the artist on the website you linked. Thanks for making my day. It's only half past eight in the morning!


Avian Aggregate

Above waterfall
circling stone
alighting tree
traversing ocean
scribbling bare air
woven like hair
seeded in field
made by wingbeat
cloud of sound
storm of flight
slipstreaming
like graceful words
across the page

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Thanks Jim and Jayne and Christine,

I am glad you like these too! I am loathe to deconstruct why I am drawn to them (also it's one of those artworks where the artist statement says it for me, without using 'artspeak').

Christine, it might be worth speaking to a local photographer. Other photographers capture similar things, just in their own style, and can often be cheaper and appreciative of the commission, particularly if they're just out of college. Show them the work you like, and ask if/how that might translate to their work/ the place you live in. In my head I always think of art commmissions being like showing a hairdresser pictures of haircuts & asking how that translates to their skills/aesthetics/place.

Jim, your thoughts about children are so interesting, and I like how in your story the children are wise and witty, not subject to that external sense of 'naive', which always feels like a kind of false value-judgment to me (although I know little of child psychology).

I love the poem, too. Your words, drawn in ink on an empty sky in the patterns of birds/murmurations would make a wonderful visual poem.

One day? Collaboration? Maybe in the New Year, which I know sounds ridiculously long time-line but I'm gearing up to be back at work in September.

Sarah-Jane

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Yay to "one day!" I'm sure we could find something...


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