It is always surprising when you get to my age, and discover something about yourself that, as in this case, was always there but is now explained. I have always believed that, rightly or wrongly, we do not surpass a certain mental age. This may fuel the fire of the commonly experienced imposter syndrome. I know that there are times when my kids say ‘Dad’ and I have to pinch myself out of some teenage mindset and bring myself back into a responsible stance.

 In a post enlightenment world where certain belief systems have been considered naïve, superstitious, or childlike I find myself still leaning towards a predisposition for accrediting random objects with sentience, with imbuing features of my life which may be landscape, natural or even manmade objects, with character. This can be taken further with the sense that spirits exist within a landscape or the objects within it. This has quietly survived within me, on a subconscious level since childhood. It is not uncommon for children to unknowingly practice the belief of Animism. It is one of the many facets of innocence which we seem, as a society, to be driven to smother as quickly as possible. 

One of my favourite films is the Studio Ghibli classic animation ‘Spirited away’. This introduced me to the Japanese belief of the existence of spirits within almost everything and the respect with which they are honoured. It also triggers a sentimentalism for my childhood which was filled with imaginary wonder and characters which I projected onto the objects around me. Something I have seen my own children do and which I feel naturally protective and defensive of on their behalf. 

  Last week we holidayed in beautiful Cornwall, a place I was lucky enough to live in during the majority of my twenties. It is a place, like Scotland, which is deeply rooted in its Celtic and Pagan history with a beautiful natural landscape which makes it easy to conjure up images of past lives and fantastical creatures. One of the tourist hotspots that we visited was the Tintagel Castle. Purported to be the place of conception for King Arthur. It is described as having a spiritual essence. Once you have past the main village and make the journey down the steep incline and across the impressively constructed metal bridge you step onto the small, rugged outcrop that once housed this royal dwelling. For those Harry Potter fans out there it is easy to imagine Dumbledore discovering on of the Horcrux amongst the dark sea caves that lie beneath. It is a unique and impressive landscape, not for the faint hearted and definitely not for any unfortunate vertigo sufferers.

 As always art has its part to play in creating an impact as, keeping guard over the island’s legacy, stands the ethereal bronze sculpture of ‘Gallos’ often associated with King Arthur, holding what could be Excalibur, emanating a sombre hooded mood. It is a sculpted piece of metal created by Rubin Eynon. 

My instinct is to let my imagining take it further. To give this manmade object spirit and character as he symbolises resolution, hardiness against the elements, a sombre nobility and sense of protection. From a personal perspective I feel that by allowing these animist sentiments to flow, the nature of our environment changes dramatically. Succumbing to the power of our commonly suppressed inner child only serves to elevate our experience of the natural world beyond taxonomy, materialsim and pragmatism. It transforms physical objects into narrative, which results in a more uplifting and spiritual experience. Art only serves as a conduit to heighten our senses and further allows us to be elevated beyond shadows and dust.

 One of the other highlights was our visit to the Eden project. I remember when it was first completed. The incredible bubble biodomes and the ethos, which has remained intact, behind its conception. Now the plant life is established and flourishing with new areas in development. At times we felt like we were in a truly alien environment reminding us of the vast diversity of life, of which we are such a small part. You also can’t fail to notice the ominous nature of almost all the information posters, constantly referring to loss of natural habitats and the locust like impact we are having on our planet. It seems prophetic now that we enjoyed the Mediterranean Dome, reminiscing about our holidays to Greece only to return home to news that this whole area of Europe is catching fire.

 It was here, within the art exhibition where I came across the word – Animism. A small epiphany but significant all the same. The description given read ‘A way of relating to the world that attributes sentience to other beings that may include persons, animals, plants, spirits, the environment and forces of nature like the ocean, winds, sun or moon.’ On further research I realised that this kind of belief system has existed and predates most others. What some people may now describe as naïve or childlike exists within indigenous peoples all over the world and is born from a deep connection with the environment. A connection which increasingly seems to be disappearing as we lose respect for our symbiotic existence. 

 Ultimately, the guilt I have carried for feeling childlike in a world where adulthood is often unfathomable to me. Where we commonly deny our childlike instincts in order to supress our sense of imposter syndrome. That particular guilt has diminished a little in the knowledge that my animist sentiments are part of a much wider community that has existed for millennia. I have also realised that they reach into the heart of artistic endeavour which is to take the material world and strive to recast it into the spiritual. To offer others a conduit into their imaginations and reignite our untainted childish sentiments. 

Paul