As I approach the final week of my month-long Edenhope Artist in Residence program, https://edenhopeartistresidency.com.au/ I find myself in the spaciousness this residency has offered, in the gentle explorations of a daily practice where art, thinking, and the local environment have been at the forefront.
This is only a subtle shift from my daily life, adding being CEO of the Australian Network for Art & Technology (ANAT) to the mix, where much of my focus is on supporting artists and fostering creative partnerships between organisations, scientists, and technologists. I welcome the blurring of boundaries.
This morning’s contemplation turns toward my own practice and my organisational work, and how I experience them as deeply interconnected. I often return to a concept I borrow from Joseph Beuys and his notion of social sculpture.
Beuys believed that everyone is an artist. For him, life itself was a form of art, creativity could be applied to all aspects of human activity, shaping both personal lives and society. He introduced the concept of “social sculpture,” imagining society as a collective artwork shaped by the creative endeavours of individuals. Art, in this framing, is not confined to galleries; it engages with broader social and spiritual dimensions.
For me, this resonates deeply. My work becomes arts practice in its broadest sense, how I move through daily routines; how I work with artists, communities, and projects; how I pursue my own artistic and spiritual investigations; how I work collectively. The organisational and the personal continue to iinform one another.
This reflection also brings me to personality and neurodiversity within the arts. Recently, I revisited Eysenck’s Personality Inventory and noted that I sit comfortably within the phlegmatic quadrant. Over the years, I’ve preferred building deep relationships with peers and colleagues, often becoming lifelong friends, rather than immersing myself in the noise of gallery openings and large events. I sometimes wonder how this disposition intersects with expectations around “working in the arts” and visibility.
For me, the internet has been a connective tissue for over 25 years. Coming from the field of electronic art in the late 1990s, when communities were dispersed across the globe and I was living in regional NSW, connection often meant chat rooms and long, late-night MSN conversations. Communities emerged beyond geography, sustained by intention and shared curiosity.
This piece, rather than a conclusion, is more a Sunday morning musing, an internal thought process made external. Perhaps it resonates with others who also work in non-traditional ways. I am most nourished by quieter spaces, where small, deeper conversations unfold; where walking, eating, contemplation, and reflection are valued forms of exchange.
There is space for many modes of thinking and being within the arts and within workplaces. My time at Edenhope has gently reminded me of that truth.