Anonymous Tantra Painter, Shiva Linga, 2002

Anonymous, Shiva Linga, 2002

I have noticed in the Tantric works how the simplicity of their conventional, geometric forms is complemented by the infinite complexity of their particular execution: water stains, flaws in the handmade paper, fragments of unrelated text combine to make each work not only unique but somehow perfect. These images would clearly not have the same power if they were drawn on a computer and digitally printed. It’s not just a desire for the antique or a nostalgic patina that makes the incidental marks so important, it’s precisely that ideal forms—forms plumbed from the depths of the mind, of the soul—need to co-exist with randomness and the emptiness of chance. How is it that a symbol of god alone is so dull, but when juxtaposed with a smudge or a smear it comes alive? Ever since I moved to the country I’ve fantasized about sleeping at night in the woods, with a blanket maybe but nothing else to separate me from the world and the life around me. I haven’t done it, but I see in these Tantric images what such exposure might feel like and what awareness it might lead to. —Lawrence Rinder from Tantra Song.  If in NYC, you can check out these paintings at Feature Inc.

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