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SPONTANEOUS EMOTIONAL EJECTION
What is Spontaneous Emotional Ejection
Spontaneous Emotional Ejection or S.E.E is a new form or style of abstract expressionism that is spontaneous in creation without forethought of subjectivity or objectivity.
It is what it ends up being within spontaneous creativity.
One view of emotional expression in art is that it is preceded by a perturbation or excitement from a vague cause about which the artist is uncertain and therefore anxious.
The artist then proceeds to express feelings and ideas in words or paint or stone or the like, clarifying them and achieving a release of tension.
But with Spontaneous Emotional Ejection the fundamental intention and importance is the urgent emotional critical need to release feelings in spontaneous and rapid ejection, very quickly and with reckless abandonment, without reflection, reason, forethought or contemplation of any kind.
Art is a record of what the artist is feeling and, at the same time, it can bring about emotional reactions in the viewer.
Artists make choices about colour, line, texture, and composition to evoke or express feelings.
Sometimes this leads to abstracting a subject to make it more expressive, but Spontaneous Emotional Ejection takes no pleasure in choice, but only in emotion.
Pure emotion within a short period of time, and the need to release that emotion, irrelevant of the outcome upon canvas.
All reason, logic and rationality can resurface after the work is completed (if one so wishes) but during the creation of the work itself, which is spontaneous and continuous in creation, all emotion is within the moment and is expended and ejected onto the canvas in a rush of rapid activity, release and brush strokes.
Spontaneous Emotional Ejection has to be released in the moment as the need and compulsion dictates, requires and compels.
It can be compared to a neurotic outburst or an emotional overload and/or a breakdown of rational thinking into pure undiluted emotional creativity.
In the case of Spontaneous Emotional Ejection the emotion is released rapidly and rational breakdown and loss of sanity avoided by the emotions being captured and channelled into maximum critical emotional creativity and hence released safely onto canvas.
Spontaneous Emotional Ejection artists have a manic neurotic compulsion to create and paint, they simply must create and paint when the compulsion arises, irrelevant of content.
It’s not a choice or a decision, it has to be done, emotion has to be released into creativity.
It’s an anxious subconscious (and conscious) critical mass type build up of emotional energy over a period of time within the soul that has to be released, no matter what transpires from that particular episode of rapid, erratic, manic, explosive and eruptive creative emotional energy.
It has become a kind of artistic maximum spiritual creative release from the depths of the human soul.
The outcome is – Spontaneous Emotional Ejection.
The result and aftermath upon the canvas does not matter.
Only the emotional release has meaning, and that will be apparent after the episode is over and viewable upon the canvas for ever more.
A record in time of extreme creative genius and release by the human soul and spirit.
It follows that the state of mind giving rise to Spontaneous Emotional Ejection cannot be the conscious, critical mind, but rather the unconscious, non-evaluative, spontaneous one.
“when contemplating the moment i became aware that i wanted to be an artist, the realisation hit me that i always had been an artist, i just didn’t realise it. It was the already present artist within me that had to push forward into my conscious mind from my unconscious mind. All i did was voluntary trade places without conscious resistance. The transition was painless and really quite exhilarating. But what was really amazing was what my artist started to create now that it was free to do so without resistance. This was the moment that Spontaneous Emotional Ejection was born, right there in that instant of time, i felt the force of eternity, and that history itself was truly being made”
Although analysis may well follow inspiration (helping a creator better grasp intellectually–and refine on–what’s just been created), analysis itself cannot bring forth a state of inspiration.
Only unrehearsed, unsolicited moments of spontaneity can accomplish this. And it might be mentioned here that humanistic psychologist Abraham Maslow once described creative people as “all there, totally immersed, fascinated and absorbed in the present, in the current situation, in the here-now, with the matter-in-hand.”
Inspiration “comes” then because creative individuals are willing to lose themselves (i.e., their “self-conscious self”) and become totally engrossed in the present moment.
It really doesn’t matter whether we’re talking about the creator being engaged in literature, painting, architecture, sculpture, music, the performing arts, or any other art form. (And, parenthetically, it should be added that it doesn’t have to be an art form at all, since it’s possible to be creative in virtually any endeavor.)
The key point to be made here is that the act of creation has something essential to do with both spontaneity and inspiration. And in some ways these two states of consciousness may be inseparable.
For each of them involves newness or freshness--or, as we might put it in today’s parlance, “thinking outside the box.”
Regardless of how much planning or thought may have gone into a work’s preparation, its actual execution must be somewhat “thoughtless,” in the sense that the creation–in the very process of “being born”–must somehow manage to transcend the creator.
This is why novelists, for example, frequently talk about how at some point their fictional characters begin to determine, or “edit,” the plot; how, in the act of writing, “well-realized” characters may refuse to abide by their author’s original intentions.
Ironically, they can take on a mind of their own and become active participants in shaping the narrative originally “sculpted” by their creator.
If the author has succeeded in “breathing life” into them, they may begin–spontaneously, as it were–to “channel” their own ideas and emotions through the author.
Emblematic of their author’s inner wisdom (that part of the creator’s self which in the moment knows more than he or she can know consciously), these characters have in a sense been given “free will” to determine the work’s final structure.
Artists devoted to keeping faith with their creative instincts have little choice but to follow the messages they’re getting spontaneously from these “fictive selves” and allow them to “take over” the narrative.
All of which is to say that the spontaneous part of the author’s psyche (vs. the more deliberative, rational part) must assume an increasingly prominent role in the creative process.
If any creative work is to achieve greatness, it must be–as the eminent literary theorist Northrop Frye once put it–“realized from the unconscious.”
It should be evident that at the foundation of an artistic masterpiece (as opposed to, say, a cogent piece of propaganda) what is triumphantly at work is the spontaneous mind.
It’s a mind–or better, mindfulness–that has very little to do with everyday thought.
Its spontaneity reflects a great deal of accumulated knowledge and experience–but assimilated to the degree that the work is imbued with more wisdom than the creator could possibly be aware of.
“Realized from the unconscious,” the work goes beyond what its creator could contrive consciously.
All of this reminds me of a scene in the movie Amadeus in which Mozart defends himself to his superior by saying, “Forgive me, Majesty. I am a vulgar man. But I assure you, my music is not.”
This is why artists of all stripes, listening to a voice from deep within, can create works that somehow manage to be more profound–“wiser” and more evolved–than, personally, they are themselves.
Richard Wagner (to give just one of countless examples) was hardly an exemplary human being.
But there’s no question that his music frequently rises to greatness, and that his Ring Cycle is a singular operatic masterpiece.
Whether we know it or not, we make emotional art every time we pick up our pencils, dip our brushes in paint or start chipping away at rock or wood.
However, what’s really going through our minds when we work?
Throughout history, artists have sought to connect with their audience through many different channels.
Whether using particular colours, representing certain scenes or communicating symbols that work on a subconscious level, each work of art is designed to convey a message to the viewer as seen through the eyes of the artist.
In the past, research has suggested our emotional and aesthetic responses to art were based on a basic stimulus. However, recent research by Pinchas Noy and Dorit Noy-Sharav has found our responses to art run much deeper than that.
These fresh theories suggest that when we view art, we’re drawing on associations that date back to the early days of human evolution.
Have you ever seen those online posts showing tomatoes cut in half to reveal an image of Jesus or cups of coffee that seem to depict a human face in the froth on top?
Humans are hard-wired to look for recognisable features in everything, so it’s no surprise we make the same associations when we look at art.
When we first look at an image, we’re using different parts of our brain to process the information before our eyes. There are three stages to this.
The first is a state of confusion as we attempt to work out what this piece of art represents (is that a landscape? Is that a figure?).
The second is when we identify what the image represents and feel a sense of relief as the pleasure centres of our brain are triggered. The final stage is when we assign meaning to the image and get an emotional response to the piece of emotional art on show.
So far, so good. However, this is when things get really interesting.
According to some new research, what’s actually happening here is that we’re drawing on some of the same emotional responses as our ancient ancestors.
In fact, it looks like art and emotion have always had an unbreakable link to each other.
Symmetry has often featured prominently in art for a very good reason – we’re programmed to look for it. Whether avoiding predators, chasing prey or finding a mate, our cave-dwelling forebears looked for symmetry (specifically what’s termed bilateral symmetry) to help them make certain decisions.
With this in mind, it’s no surprise some of the world’s most beautiful people are also those said to have the most symmetrical features.
Whether standing at the top of a mountain or taking a solitary walk on the beach or in the country, most of us feel a deep sense of calm when we’re in wide open spaces.
We know art can inspire similar emotions too, but according to new research, the reasons for this link between art and emotion also go back to our prehistoric roots.
Put simply, our ancient ancestors knew having a clear, open view was good. It meant they could travel safely on foot without being pounced on by predators. It meant there were no threats lurking in the shadows.
In the same way, bright paintings with a sense of open space elicit similar feelings of relaxation or contentment in viewers, while dark, more oppressive works of art cause people to feel more anxious.
When looking at a piece of art, we’re effectively seeing through the same eyes as our predecessors.
Of course, most people’s responses to art run far deeper than simply feeling happy or anxious. When we connect with a painting, drawing, sculpture or installation, we’re doing so on a complex emotional level, or experiencing what some researchers have called ‘meta emotions’.
What are these?
They’re when several different emotions are triggered at the same time. They’re when a work of art manages to convey both complexity and technical skill.
They’re when we truly engage with the emotional art before us.
For example, an expertly-painted image of Christ on the cross will satisfy our need for symmetry, but the emotional impact of this image will also affect us on a deeper level.
However, imagine if the image of Christ wasn’t so well painted – say, for example, the anatomy was clearly incorrect. Would it still get the same response?
Research says not. It seems everything has to be perfectly combined in order for a work of art to produce meta emotions in us.
Interestingly, the same applies to a depiction of something that lacks emotion.
Can you remember the last time you were moved by a technical drawing?
When we’re infants, we make connections in our minds to grasp simple concepts. And it’s here that the link between art and emotion is often established.
For example, we know the family pet is a dog or a cat, and we soon learn that food lives in the kitchen cupboards and the refrigerator!
However, as we develop, these connections become more conceptual as we begin to associate certain images with emotions. For example, we might come to associate a sunny day with playing in the park etc.
These conceptual associations in our brain play a big part when we make or look at art. Every mark you make, every color you use, every image you see is triggering a whole load of different responses in you.
Some of these emotional responses to art can be unique to you as an individual, while others are more deeply rooted in a universal human consciousness.
When you make art, you’re making some deep connections. You’re combining your own emotions and conceptual associations with your technical knowledge.
You’re trying to share your own experiences of life with those of your viewers. Whether you know it or not, you’re making emotional art.
In doing so, you’re calling on the subconscious parts of your mind when making decisions in your composition, subject matter and the colours you use.
Think back to our ancient ancestors – does that landscape you’re painting actually have a much deeper meaning than you thought?
Learning how to translate these subconscious emotions into art and communicate them to others takes time. It’s part of becoming an artist.
There will be many times when others don’t see what you were trying to portray.
Being able to learn from this and develop – to truly combine art and emotion – is to embark on a fascinating journey that began centuries ago.
Art Abstract Expressionism Artist UK 