Phil Irish

Saturday was the first "Follow Maps With Phil" Event.

I wasn't sure what location to pick --- I wanted to select a map that a) had a good story, and b) was clear enough to follow that people would actually find me. I selected a map drawn by Anna (whose ring I wear) to the Grand River Hospital in Kitchener. The story of this place is hugely significant to us, as it is the place where she gave birth to our daughter, and also where she was treated for breast cancer.

It is a powerful thing to do --- to sit outside a hospital for a few hours, drawing, and thinking about life. It reminds me of the memento mori tradition, such as placing a skull on your writing table to remind you of your frailty, the brevity of life, and to live with your own death in view. We've been able to romanticize the image of a skull, or a cemetery... but to actually sit outside that hospital, watching the ambulances leave and return with human cargo, was a powerful experience for me.

Hospitals have also touched pretty-much everyones lives. So, it is also a good place to have a conversation about life. A couple of people map followers found me there, bringing sketch book, or photographs to discuss.

Here is a generative question ---
how could a view of a hospital be represented, to highlight what the place actually MEANS in people's lives?
I was thinking about the blend of vivid humanity, and cold technology, that the place embodies. From a concern for efficiency and modern management systems, to compassion and the bodily struggle of individual people. It's no wonder that hospital shows are a staple on TV... what can painting say to this complex truth in our lives? I had so many ideas, sitting there for those hours, I don't know where to begin.

If you'd like to join me on my next "Follow Maps with Phil" day, or at least receive the map, email me at philirish@golden.net

I spent the entire weekend camped out at the Nidus Festival, at Bingeman Park, Kitchener. Sean Howard was my co-adventurer --- thanks for a great weekend!

Nidus (latin for "Nest") brought diverse streams of the Christian faith together to explore God, seek justice, and celebrate rich cultural expression. This was no cliche thing. I was blown away by the wisdom, the grace extended to all, and the creative freedom. My fav musician was Miranda Stone --- not only for her concert, but also for the tea hut she built -- where she served tea, free, non-stop, for 3 days. Her exotic hut became the relational hub of the whole festival, where people met to talk and be together and share.... for me, it was a physical embodiment of grace. Thanks Miranda. The best speaker, for me, was Shane Claibourne. He really challenged my imagination --- to think about community and politics, justice and creativity. Jesus was so unconventional in his love: why then do his followers blend into the masses so smoothly? We need to free our imaginations to envision another way of living (and be willing to go to jail for it? -- Shane's protest stories are great).

I brought an expanded version of the Cartographers' Lounge -- walls to accomodate 5 paintings as well as the usual. Here's the thing: the results were FANTASTIC. I think the reason is that people were already there to lead reflective lives. Perhaps my lounge became another spiritual tool, like the Labyrinth in the next room, to opens one's life to possibility.
Whatever the case, I got a lot of great maps with practically no song-and-dance from my end. For instance, a US military deserter; a healing garden after Kosovo; a bike accident at Hilton Falls; ... and so many more. Stay tuned for painterly results.

I really hope Nidus happens again next year.

We had another "follow maps with Phil" day.
This time, we headed off to "Memory Gardens," a cemetery near Breslau. The map was one from the Nidus Festival. The woman describes being reconciled to her father at her wedding, then proceeds to describe three deaths in quick succession - including her father and her husband. Her story of brokenness ends by crediting her faith in Jesus for pulling her beyond grief and pity, to a concern for others. So, intense stuff.

Three people came to visit, and two actually stayed for several hours. (One visitor is an artist of note, Marilyn Batte.) Three of us had wide ranging conversations ---

- deaths of people we have loved
- burial practices in different places, including modern Egypt
- hospitals (how they should be more beautiful to promote healing),
- parenting (how kids like to undress when they're little, and then don't for while, and then - as teenagers - want to get their clothes off again)
- commercial galleries... and the sales vs. grants question
- violence in Lebanon / Israel, and our feeling of being helpless... but a hope that art may contribute to the building of peace, one perspective at a time...

So, it was a fascinating time.

As for the view -- I wasn't sure what to paint at first. There are very few stones as grave markers. Mostly metal plaques on the ground, often with flowers in a vase on top. This creates an interesting rhythm of open space and flowers diminishing into the distance. But I was drawn to the statues of Jesus, because of the faith expressed in the letter. But how, HOW, to paint Jesus -- from the typical statue that we have all seen thousands of times? As I sat to draw, however, an amazing thing happened. The gardener pulled up in his cart, hauling a water tank, and hosed down the garden and the statue as well. Rainbows and golden shimmering light filled the air, dispensed from an industrial nozzle. Then, as quickly as he arrived, the gardener was gone. A moment’s apparition shed the most heavenly and most pragmatic light upon the Christ. This is one thing I love about following these maps: if I am at a loss, my patience and sustained attention is always rewarded by some surprising event.

The image above is one studio sketch, developed from that experience. I call it Christ and the Gardener.