I’ve always had this fascination with negative space, quite simply, the space between. The space that suggests pause and enforces breath. In art, it is the emptiness that gives space to allow your mind to clarify the focal point and perhaps becomes the real art in the process. Negative space is crucial in framing the narrative of the greater picture, while sometimes, at least in my own subjective opinion, becoming just as imperative and significant as that which it is drawing your eye towards. Negative space is always there to point to something else. To draw your attention towards something more. Something that surrounds it. Negative space works to evoke response and invites all the senses to imagine. I’ve always been drawn to negative space as a designer and a photographer. I suppose I am rather curious at just where the space between might lead and what this sense of depth might evoke. And I guess now, as I approach this thought in relation to the Christian faith, and more specifically the role of the Christian creative, I am understanding just how necessary this concept of providing space really is, not only to the human eye, but to the human experience and in regards to approaching our relationship to our Creator. We come, as the artist, always yielding to The Artist. We come, as the maker, always pointing to The Maker. And that is my hope for you. That is the hope I have for myself. That we would, as the maker and the dreamer, as the artist and the craftsman, as the advocate and activist, as the neighbor and the human, create space for the Spirit to come.
The hope is that what we allow to take up space on our canvas and the space that we leave empty, would ultimately point to and recognize God as First Creator. My hope is that we would design our lives in a way that leaves room for the master artist and architect to inhabit. That we would design for the dwelling of the Spirit.
This approach to art and creativity has led me to where I am today. A place where I care far more about making something that evokes healing and restoration rather than simply making something "pretty." It's brought me to a place where I admire aesthetics but yield to connection and communication as arts main objective. That is why Musa is about more than good design. What is good design really? Musa is a spirit, a language. It's form, vision, and interpretation. It is space both positive and negative. It's about the poetry of the Earth and the primitive craft to which we are called. It's a studio, a collective, a house, if you will...and you know what they say, mi casa, su casa.
