THE WORLD’S LOVER
Essay by Beth Jackson
The artist is no one’s lover. The artist is the world’s lover and art is the lover’s discourse – speaking in fragments, partial offerings, tenderly apologising for inadequacies that result from the knowledge that there is no total picture, no complete view, no full story. Perhaps this is never so felt as with the artist photographer with eyes full of evidence, wide for the world. The lover’s language is not one of explanation or justification or instruction. Art can’t tell us what to do. It mustn’t be boring in that way, treating you like an idiot or a child. It may tease and tickle, tug and twist ... inviting, always inviting … even in denial, the invitation to look elsewhere. The language of the tryst – meet me here!