Personal

I’m not used to be talkative about someone else’s artworks, or even about my own art creations and experiments – mainly (I suppose) because my silent nature, and also due some sense of self-restraint about any kind of analysis on the ways of art (I’m not a critic; I’m just an observer, at most a mere witness) – but today, when I was just passing by Sabina Nore’s artworks Facebook page I realize that, sometimes, it is worth to express our inner feelings about that bizarre human condition: to be an artist.
 
It’s quite amazing to see how Sabine Nore creative mind has been growing up and bursting out in different aspects. I’m an old man – I mean, I ALWAYS was an old guy, even during my young years – so I often engaged in long contemplations, calm measurements and lonely reflections. That’s why I value highly the maturing processes of other people’s mind and creativity.
 
Therefore, to me it’s important recognize some kind of maturing knowledge, perhaps even wisdom, in the work of an artist. And I’m not talking about maturing skills; I really trying to pointing out something very subtle (even completely imperceptible sometimes) which lurks inside all strong, passionate artist: the true aesthetic bonding between life and art.
 
And I see that in Sabina Nore’s art. At first glance it seems too much self-centered, always calling out her own image, persona, anima. But I don’t think that it should be the case. To think about Nore’s imagery as selfish is to disregard its deep, wonderful implications. I sense a huge quest for self-discoveries in Nore’s artworks, a passionate exploration of the non-being which dwells the boundaries of any personal identity, like a eerie ghost of our true nature.
 
Obviously, I see Nore’s art with Zen Buddhist eyes. And also I see her as an uncanny person, far beyond my reach. I’ve never really meet her; never hear the sound of her voice, the glow of her eyes, the colors of her soul. And such condition gives me an unsuspecting advantage to unravel the mystery of her face. Because, for me, there is no Sabina! I’m only able to catch her image, her name, perhaps to read about her thoughts, but it is just a glimpse of her true reality.
 
And then, there is her imagery, her fantastic world, full of passionate representation. Sabina Nore present us her very identity to be considered and interpreted as we wish, in a surprisingly generous way. And such courage – to lay bare yourself, exposed to view – represents to me how Sabina is humble and detached of herself. There is in fact an empty, selfless quality beyond the painted layers of Sabina’s art.
 
Who is Sabina Nore? As a distant witness of her intense, creative nature, I’m eagerly looking for the answer, as if it was a Zen Buddhist koan investigation. And at the very end of such artistic quest, after going through all her iconic dreams and bizarre landscapes, I’m suspicious that perhaps I’ll only find the echoes of Shakespeare’s alluring conclusion: “the rest is silence”.