I recently understood how absence often occupies even more space than presence, or better-said, imaginary space filled by fictitious presence. Of course, true presence is not what I'm talking about, as it is all encompassing and enlightenment in itself. Absence, on the other hand, can invite ghosts and those invisible phantoms have little to do with your perception of them. Absence creates a lingering effect that leaks power from your source without your being aware of it. Yet, how do we stop it other than being wholly present in its void? It's not an intellectual understanding that ultimately allows departure from this trap, but a deeper knowing that is both physical and intuitive at the same time. In a way, it's unnamable like the many names of God in Hebrew.
In looking back at my work with absence presence over the last years, I only now fully understand the alchemy of it. That's the beauty of an art practice. It's as though an invisible force drives you to create and in the creating, you are able to work through exactly what's needed. Like homeopathy, the medicine takes its miniscule root from the ailment -- "let like be cured by like" -- and in doing so heals you. Not to say that all art is a healing process, but in the relatedness of all things art itself takes you to the next step of your evolution. It's only in the reflection, however, that you realize where you have been and how you've gotten there.