The artist Paula Camacho speaks of her artwork, her process, and her greatest artistic inspiration. Paula has a unique perception of reality and shares some lessons she’s learned from animism and Taoism, and how they have affected her entire life.
Coreopsis Journal: What does ritual art look like, or mean, to you?
Paula Camacho: My personal experience of ritual, as I have come to realize over the years, has functioned mainly to cultivate, heal, or deepen conscious connection between two polarities, i.e. body and mind, earth and ether, ego and soul, etc.
When I’m called to perform a ritual, my rational mind often does not catch up with the reasons behind what my intuition is guiding me to execute—it takes a while for it to sink in. Art-making as a ritual is a profound one for me. This is not only because it reveals the mysteries of psyche and nature, but because I’m deliberately manipulating physical reality to manifest what only existed in/as the unmanifest. Art-making is a “God-like” act that puts me in conscious awareness of the mind’s likeness to the creative function of the universe.
Coreopsis: Was there a spiritual experience that catalyzed your painting the inherent oneness and communication of all of nature?
Camacho: There were two experiences that happened a few months apart in 2018.
On the first occasion, I was spending a few days alone in the forest constructing my first nature installation. The silent work and the tactile interaction with the land really quieted my ego and allowed me to notice the intentionality in the way nature manifests everything. These brief moments of my animist inner child waking up after years of dormancy made me realize that animism is innate in perhaps all children and it gets conditioned out of us throughout the process of maturation.
With my inner child reemerging there in the woods, there came the feeling of being enveloped by nature’s Yin energy, which we often conceive of as “Mother Nature,” re-birthing me, nurturing me, and gently guiding me to trust again. Reawakening animism in adulthood has allowed me to better understand the elusive concept of the Tao. Moreover, I feel that animism filtered through Taoism removes any inclination to anthropomorphize, and therefore simply acknowledges the presence and influence of the Yin and the Yang energies that animate reality.
The second experience was an ayahuasca ceremony a few months later.
To be honest, I didn’t fully know what I was getting into (not recommended!), but I think my ignorance was somehow to my benefit because I had no expectations and therefore no particular emotions attached. I was a clear, unobstructed vessel in that moment for the medicine to penetrate into my deepest layers—ones I didn’t even know existed. I won’t elaborate on the entire thing, because I could write a whole book (or two) about the profound influence this one experience has had on my life, even to this day. But among the many lessons and realizations, this event deepened my understanding of the synergy between animist and Taoist philosophy, and has vastly expanded my definition of the word “nature.”
It is inconceivably complex, mysterious, intelligent, and intentional (entheogens are a prime example of this). It is truly and always the matter at hand. Therefore, I find that I still cannot make artwork about anything unrelated.
Coreopsis: How has animism affected your relationship with the subject(s) of your artwork?
Camacho: Due to my previously described experiences, I feel like I’ve (mostly) deconditioned myself from the mental model that logic and rationale reign supreme; they are not as ancient as our intuitive faculties. I now see the world through the eyes of my inner child.
Animism has made the imagery emerging in my work make sense to me. They’re no longer just labored-over forms that are fun to paint and pleasant to look at, but symbols to be interpreted. Back then, I didn’t really have the tools to perceive the purpose behind the products of my inspiration, and perhaps I also relied too heavily on logic and rationale to defend my work in academic settings, which is why I’d often naively construe a meaning that sounded good and slap it onto my work without truly understanding. Yet the images/symbols still came. Imagery does continue pushing forth as per usual, but now, after having gone through the aforementioned experiences, I’m able to actually decipher their meanings instead of inventing it.
Coreopsis: Where do you get ideas or concepts of what you will paint?
Camacho: My creation process can vary between a top-down or a bottom-up process for a given piece (even though I’ve mainly touched on my bottom-up process because that’s the way it most commonly occurs for me). New work doesn’t ever really start with the whole “picture,” conceptually nor visually. It arrives in bits and pieces and gradually the full thing reveals itself. The ideas are also an invitation to interface with the real-life versions of my subjects, which often generates more inspiration.
Coreopsis: What piece of art has inspired you the most?
Camacho: It would have to be Ugolino and His Sons by Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux. This work brilliantly and subtly depicts the peak of Ugolino’s desperation, based on Dante’s rendition of Ugolino’s imprisonment in Inferno. He was left to starve to death with his sons and grandsons in 1289. In the poem, Ugolino’s sons beg him to eat them. In the sculpture, Ugolino is cringing away from his sons on his right in horror of their plea and simultaneously encroaching on the much weaker and more vulnerable grandsons to his left, facing away from it all. When viewed from below, Ugolino’s facial expression and body language is one of absolute terror; when viewed from above eye level, his bodily and facial expression is one of a man overcome by an almost beastly impulse toward survival. I could honestly write a whole essay on this sculpture. The composition’s exquisitely balanced duality of his torn mind is what blows me away, and I could only aspire to achieve such an excellent balance in my own compositions.
Coreopsis: If you had one thing to tell those that perceive your artwork— what would it be?
Camacho: What about the outer mirrors the inner? What about the inner mirrors the outer? What are you perceiving, yet not recognizing?
To see Camacho’s other paintings and installations, to peek future work, or connect visit her website: https://cargocollective.com/paulacamacho
Carly J.J. Turner (aka Mede Potawatomig Ikwe) is a Pipe Carrier and medicine woman, O’Jibway from The Minnesota Chippewa Tribe, The White Earth Indian Reservation, and Wisconsin, The Bad River LaPointe Band of the Lake Superior Tribe of Chippewa Indians. Her Clan is Mukwa-Bear.
When Carly isn’t skipping through a pink-glittered desert speaking with her animal friends, she’s likely to be away fasting and praying or simply enjoying a cup of puerh tea and creating art.
Carly has an Associates Degree in Art and a Journalism and New Media CCL. She hopes to spread her words, art, and healing to many.
For consulting work or to see her ritual art visit: Phosphenesandaether.com
She accepts donations for her shares, if you’d like to donate:
Venmo: @journeyhawk