On the 6th October 2018, a report was released by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change
stating the environmental, social and economic risks to the planet should the average
temperature of the earth rise by just 1.5C. (IPCC, 2018) ‘Hundreds of millions of lives are at
stake, the report declares, should the world warm more than 1.5 degrees Celsius, which it will
do as soon as 2040, if current trends continue.’(Walace-Wells, 2018). The report describes the
scale of mobilization necessary, to even minimally curb the climatic change created by the
byproducts of an accelerating world reliant on finite unsustainable resources and de- regulated
trade systems, as unprecedented (IPCC,2018). It is no longer possible to ignore these figures
and predictions as they become our undeniable reality.
With the rise in globalization and merging of technology with the everyday (Archey, cited: Time,
2013: 126), capitalist agenda and subsequent neoliberal ideals have become so deeply imbedded in
our society that it seems impossible to imagine a world in which slowing down, living
intuitively, creatively and ‘becoming-with’ (Haraway, 2016: 12) the planet is more than a
bohemian ideal. The commercialization of planet earth in all its’s forms such as the
‘privatization of the public sphere, deregulation of the corporate sector and the lowering of
income and corporate taxes’(Klein, 2014: 72) is incompatible with both the actions and
lifestyles that promotes creativity and deceleration. Lifestyles which could not only reduce
physical emission levels but provide valuable and practical ways of living and thinking within a
fragile world. Nato Thompson goes as far as to state that ‘operating against the grain of
contemporary temporality (…)(is a) hallmark of the arts’ (Thompson, cited Time, 2013: 93) – it
is now, more than ever, paramount for the artist to demonstrate potentially beneficial modes of
symbiotic interaction borne from the creative process, primarily the importance of slowing down.
With a history of artists stepping away from mainstream ideas of productivity and slowing down,
the creative process could be thought of as a form of spiritual practice; one that provides a
vital antidote to a spiritually dislocated, accelerating western world. ‘In the modern era, one
of the most active metaphors for the spiritual project is “art”’ (Susan Sontag:1). The
reintegration of meditative, slow and contemplative practices into modern life, through the
creative process or otherwise, is of paramount importance when engaging with the
socio-ecological future of the planet.
It is slowing down, or ‘non-doing’ (that which is vital to the creative process) which allows us
to step into the flow and ‘become-with’ the wider biosphere and our own intuitive nature. Like
Taoism and Zen, the psychic processes involved in art-making enable an understanding of the
interconnected rhizome of natural systems and a questioning of predominant capitalist ideals
that place high levels of productivity above time spent in reflection and reverie.
Many critics of a capitalist society have argued that the current neo-liberal model ‘ignores the
most distinctive characteristics of human society – morality, religion, art and culture – that
provide higher values than the individual and elevate humanity above the animal condition of
seeking immediate gratification’ (Clarke: 2) - a mentality that has contributed to high levels
of consumerism and environmental destruction. We exist against a backdrop of hyper- productivity
and thus slowing down becomes ever-more paramount. The pregnant, meditative pause (Austin, 1999:
xx) practiced in meditation is similar to the creative process in that comparisons can also be
drawn between psychological processed involved. Alan Watts describes the Tao- ‘it may be felt
but not conceived, intuited but not categorized, divined but not explained’(Austin, 1999:
42).One might use the same words to describe the impetus behind making art work. Comparisons can
also be drawn between Surrealist thinking and the argued benefits of practicing meditation. Zen
practice invites us to wake up to the true nature of all things (Austin, 1999: 3), a revelation
which is strikingly similar to Dadaist Andre Breton’s proclamation that ‘the mind is ripe for
something more than the benign joys it allows itself in general’(Breton, 1928). These insights
borne from meditation or the creative process, are valuable when thinking about climate change.
Quiet time spent in reflection connects us to long-time, deep-topography and to a multiplicity
of places and beings.
Stopping in one’s tracks, opens up a substratum of histories and places the individual on a
continuum of deep time. This empty space/time situates the individual within a time-frame that
extends back to the beginning of geological time and thus gives, simultaneously, a sense of
perspective and a sense of becoming-with planet. Antony Gormley describes the deceleration
within art as ‘so precious a place in which the discussion about our human future in relation to
deep time can be felt, thought about and shared’ (Gormley, cited in Groom: 75). Grounded in this
long history, a connection to one’s own sense of wellbeing, ‘to follow our own threads through
the tapestry of life with authenticity and resolve’ (Kabat-Zinn, 1994 :209), becomes ever-more
important in a world enthralled by hyper-productivity, a world that dismisses the wellbeing of
the individual, as well as that of the planet, for the sake of profit.
In the context of the creative process, slowing down allows work to be made and grow organically
as the artist subconsciously weaves together the rhizome. While placed in the present moment, we
are witness to a deep topography. Embedded in the creative process, the rarity and idiosyncrasy
of our earthly experience has the potential to provoke an understanding of the precariousness of
it and thus the urgency of protection. In a world of excessive consumption and
hyper-productivity, the creative process becomes a potent spiritual and political act. It allows
room for ‘certain incandescent flashes linking two elements of reality belonging to categories
that are so far removed from each other that reason would fail to connect them’
(Breton,1953:302). Likewise, an understanding of the perpetual flow and interconnected nature of
earth systems is highly valuable when considering future development and modes of environmental
sustainability which will require creativity and resourcefulness.
The uncertain and ever-changing flow of both earth systems and the creative process is a
‘salutary political reminder that whatever we do has implications’(Massey, 2016:122). It also
enables the existence of loose-ends amongst the ‘mesh-work’, between which lie the potential for
surprise, politics and the spontaneous action required in the face of environmental uncertainty.
Slowing down changes our relationship to the world in which we live. It has a ripple effect.
Like the rhizome, change in an individual psyche can far-reaching in its impact. Slowing down
has the potential to induce a variety of ways of thinking, being, ‘becoming- with’, adapting to
and mitigating the un-predictable effects of climate change in a society driven by
neoliberalism. Art has the potential to induce a suspension from mundane-reality, from the
habituated constraints of a society governed by capital. This suspension, an absurdist
revelation, allows one to question the reality in which we exist and the future we are heading
for. We are reminded that we are a mycelium tendril in a much wider system.