Marginalia, part 2

As I wrote on Monday, I have a little talisman made from the MARGIN RELEASE key of an old typewriter. Today I want to look at some aspects of the concept of MARGIN RELEASE.

The main idea behind my affinity with this talisman is that of Wallace Stevens’s metaphor of the garden: the universe is like a jungle, untamed and chaotic. All of us carve out as much of the jungle as we can, creating a garden that makes sense to us.

But beyond the garden wall the jungle remains. Stevens held that a creative person was one who looked for gates or doors out of the garden, out into the jungle, where they would claim another part of the jungle as their own: a MARGIN RELEASE.

Years ago I was helping with the fine arts interviews for the Governor’s Honors Program (GHP). I had been a visual arts major as a teen (50 years ago), so I walked over to the stage where the candidates had their portfolios spread out on the floor to see how the new crop was doing. Teams of judges walked about, interviewing the students about their work.

There was one kid whose work really stood out. It was assured, balanced, far above anything I could have produced at that age (or indeed now). He was a strong candidate, I thought. As it happened that year, I was called upon to help grade the test that visual arts candidates took (art history, terminology, etc.), and this kid made a 99. A shoo-in, and yes, he was a finalist.

The six weeks of GHP for visual art majors is a paradigm of MARGIN RELEASE: introduction to new media, special projects to get your feet wet, guest artists who invite you to STEAL FROM THE BEST, and finally the challenge to create a series of work using what you’ve learned.

You may imagine my disappointment when I came across the wonder boy working on his series near the end of the program — and it was exactly the stuff that got him into the program. He had seen that door open into the jungle, and after a little stroll outside he went back into his garden and carefully closed the door.

I think this failure to search for the MARGIN RELEASE key is why most of us look askance at the work of Margaret Keane or Thomas Kincade. Those big-eyed children and those color-saturated landscapes are just rote; having found something that sold, neither artist ever looked for another door ever again. “Failure” is literally not an option for them because they’re not risking it.

All of this is to say that every time we create, our ABORTIVE ATTEMPTS should be at least a hand on that doorknob: look for a way out, a way to add to who you are and what you make. Always have one finger ready to hit that MARGIN RELEASE KEY.