“As if it were written for me.”
September 24, 2008
Post by Toni van Gils, Rutherfordton, NC
THE PAINTER ALEX BIGNEY’S UNIQUE WAY of embracing life both in and out of the average forms many of us recognize, has reached new heights in Talking to Tesla.
I have enjoyed Alex’s paintings for years, and have always felt that he was capable of doing something wonderful to enhance the way people view life. But beyond his painted images, Talking to Tesla is a story that had to be told; experience that had to be shared; trueness that cannot be accepted as anything but true—if that’s the way you wish to see it. The amazing thing is that if you want to see it another way, it can be that, too. Such is the genius of a great book—it has the power to accommodate each of us. I can take what I need.
In fact, I couldn’t put it down once I picked it up! The pages of Talking to Tesla contain beauty, understanding, and emotion on every level—as if it were written just to me. And I like to believe that it was.
The Artist’s Dream Journal part is an amazing story from the heart of an ordinary person, someone like myself (I’d swear that’s my youth he vividly describes in those chapters) put down on paper using vowels and consonants rather than Alex’s more familiar paints—from the heart of a spouse, a parent, a grandparent, a son or daughter, brother or sister, painter, writer, a dreamer of dreams, and most important of all—someone fully participating in life. And then, underneath it all—there’s the beautiful child.
I have read many inspiring books that have made me think and rethink my own life on deep levels. Talking to Tesla is pure magic—an illusion that feels very, very real. My own heart will never be the same.
“…more like remembering than inventing.”
September 21, 2008
post by Jack Hadley
I’M AN ADVERTISING COPYWRITER and graphic designer, but I have a few choice friends who are real artists. I admire them. I’m fascinated by the way they think. I enjoy being around them.
Several times, as I’ve read the first few chapters of Alex Bigney’s work, Talking to Tesla, An Artist’s Dream Journal, I’ve said to myself, “He’s talking about me—he’s talking about writing, not painting!”
Alex explains that for him, paintings can start anywhere—while driving or reading a book, for example. But they don’t begin as images, or even ideas. They begin as “shadows” or as incomplete thoughts searching for their place. He’ll often jot them down on paper scraps, then misplace them somewhere—or not.
Sometimes when I write I have these same kinds of moments where incomplete thoughts quite powerfully envelop me, then are quickly lost. These notions feel like parts of a puzzle that I haven’t the ability to complete—yet I sense that somewhere in my experience the puzzle was once complete.
Whether you consider yourself “artistic” or not, have you ever had this kind of experience? If so, share it with all of us who follow this blog by commenting below. Don’t worry about how well you write. Just capture your thought and express it. This blog (and this book, really) is a participatory experience, and slowing down to recall your own “artist within” can be very satisfying.
“So, what’s it about?” (thoughts from Alex Bigney, author)
September 20, 2008
Post by Alex Bigney, author
“SO, WHAT’S IT ABOUT?”
That’s probably the most common question I hear after someone discovers that I have written a book.
But, how can I respond, “I’m not sure,” without sounding evasive or cute? As a painter, I’m not arrogant enough to think I shouldn’t have to speak about my work. In fact, I welcome the discussion. The problem is—after writing, I’m not sure that I’m a painter after all. Or a writer. Or anything else with an easy label. And exactly what is a book?
The real work of capturing impressions with paint happens before I enter the studio or touch a brush to the panel; as the work of knowing anything happens beyond the limits of my tangible self. While I can’t explain my need to paint pictures any more than I can explain my dreams—where they come from and what they all mean, the intent of my writing is to paint a clear picture of this painter’s mind and heart—for the purpose of exposing the artist in each of us.
As with any image, I have more questions now that I’ve completed the piece than when I started over four years ago. I think that’s one of the lures of painting—the tease of what is just beyond my current perspective, like the inviting view of a vast landscape through a very small window—and writing is no different.
“Oh, it’s about being an artist,” I usually reply. And who better to discuss that than the brilliant scientist—Nikola Tesla? For me, it has also been about following inspiration, sometimes blindly, even when it makes little sense—about the process of making things appear, but this time—with words.
“Yeah but—are the dreams real?” I am often asked.
And that’s the question—are dreams real?
“Are paintings?” I’m tempted to answer.
“This is an aesthetic thing,” complained a self-assured guy at one of my readings. “What I mean is that, I expected it to be—well—more about real science,” he continued.
“Try telling that to a real scientist,” I suggested.
In fact, it’s about real science, real art—real anything. What good are those old fences anyway? For me, the book has been like a playground, somewhere to slide, spin, and skip—and now, a place to play with new friends.
Learning More About Tesla
September 8, 2008
Post by Jack Hadley
ALTHOUGH Talking to Tesla, An Artist’s Dream Journal, tells of an artist’s intimate dream experiences with this renowned scientist, it doesn’t speak to the highlights of Tesla’s life and contributions.
If you don’t know much about Nikola Tesla, here is a short narrative: