An Island for Artists
No Boundaries International Art Colony
I stepped out of this world and into another. It’s a rare experience to find oneself surrounded by people and places that lack the pressure of worldly expectation.
It all started with a ferry ride. Fritzi and I traveled separate from the group due to other obligations, and twenty minutes of conversation followed tangents from art to film, surfing, and the circus.
I knew I was with a special lady as she spoke about the technical aspects of surfboard design and tightrope walking with equal enthusiasm, and her work would later reveal a keen understanding of balance and form, rhythm, and color.
We were greeted with hugs on a dock that connected the three houses we would share for the weeks to come. There was a flourish of activity in the yard, on porches, and down the beach. Paintings, drawings, and sculptures were scattered everywhere.
Oliver was filming with a rhythm that resembled insect flight patterns. Weihong was serving tea in the breakers, while Innocent burned primal fabric. Jumaadi was acting out an epic, while Karl sang about Captain Charlie Swan and the ghost of Cloden. Shaun was busy making sky above landscape weep, while Jonathan painted an electric samba. Harry was burning time machine photographs, and Michelle coaxed figures from figments. Terrell rendered calligraphic poems, and Gayle wrangled with the Marsh Outlaw. Kristin gelled the setting organic, while the pots produced a miasma from the finest chefs on the mainland.
The days went on like this in some form or another, a scatter of activity with a festive conclusion every evening. The weather changed, the wind howled, and the candles lit the wild faces aglow. We learned about humanity. We sang songs about love and sorrow. We were actors in a play about cultures we knew nothing about but longed for. Bonds were forged with people we barely knew but will never forget. We taught each other something in those days, that life is an illusion, that Sisyphus can stop rolling boulders for a brief pause.
That cause is humanity, the raw connection of diverse cultures and perspectives, abstract and concrete thought. Songs can be sung by a foreign tongue, understood by every ear.
I’m talking about Bald Head Island and the creative individuals of No Boundaries International Art Colony.
I arrived on a Sunday for a chance to reconnect with my artwork and to learn from others. I had no idea how this would shake out.
It seemed like an experimental art camp for adults but quickly turned into a crash course in cultural awareness, friendship, and artistic freedom.
What was gained during the colony came back with us and has grown exponentially through story and exchange.
Our new perspectives are reenergizing our artist friends and spilling out into a community that’s redefining art in a city that will not settle for provincial or commercial.
To those I now call friends, no matter what shore we find ourselves on, if we never meet again, thanks for being present.
Click here to see more illustrations by Mark Weber.
