Titles: Summer: so some summers summarize something, 32, 6×6
Spring: does spring bloom into action, 32, 6×6
Autumn: does autumn fall, 34, 6×6
Winter: will winters wind wound, 24, 6×6
Size: Each 16” round, 4” deep
Damon Wiggins
“Even when you’re feeling warm, the temperature could drop away like four season in one day” – Crowded House
My artistry often pays homage to the profound beauty of nature, a theme that continually draws me back to the four seasons. Much in life hinges on the ever-changing weather and climate, and this forms the core of my creative inspiration.
I’ve chosen to express these seasonal transitions through the concept of the meditation weave. Each artwork embodies the idea that, like the center of these pieces, certain aspects of the seasons continue to glow long after they have waned.
Summer, with its lush greens and radiant sun, comes alive with bright yellow in the center, a metaphor for the sun’s enduring presence. Spring blooms resplendently with an array of flowers, its center thriving in a majestic shade of purple. Winter’s icy chill is depicted in the tranquil white and icy blue, while the center emanates a cool blue light. Autumn leaves transform into warm hues as the cold sets in, with the center aflame in a brilliant shade of orange, bidding farewell to the foliage.
Each of these pieces perpetually rotates, reflecting the ever-changing and evolving seasons, and the last opens the door for the first, creating a seamless cycle.
As for my favorite season, it’s a difficult choice. I love them all, each possessing its unique charm and allure. However, I must admit that there’s a special place in my heart for the season of winter, with its cozy blankets, crackling fireplaces, and snowy landscapes. It offers a personal mental escape that’s truly enchanting.
These four meditation weaves can stand alone or come together as a harmonious set. Individually, each one takes nearly a season to create. Layers of glue and paint are poured over a span of a month or more into a cake, and from this, the threads are deftly sliced and woven together. It then takes another month or two for them to dry, and this process cycles, much like the seasons themselves.
DAMON WIGGINS 