A wise person knows that there are things that one doesn’t know. Rather than scoffing at this phrase or dismissing it, I often repeat it to myself, especially when faced with a problem I need to solve. It is not about beating myself up; it is about admitting some things that I do not understand and need to understand. Only by recognising and accepting gaps in my knowledge and experience can I take a fresh approach to actually unpack any problems from different perspectives and angles. If I thought I had all the answers, I would just rely on what I knew, which might not necessarily solve the problem at hand.
Rumi, the Sufi poet, wrote that “Acquired knowledge or book learning is the kind of knowledge that gets us ahead in the world and is tested on how we retain information”. Let me reflect on this quote. So, all this while the knowledge I had, all the paper qualifications are based on the acquired knowledge. Meaning that I acquired it—something that can be learned and mastered within my capacity. This kind of knowledge gets us our jobs, money and material wealth, that drives development and technological progress. It is functional, logical, and applied—but after that, what else? More technology? Faster, smaller, bigger, better? And to what purpose? Further, Rumi added in his poem titled “The Two Intelligences” that the other intelligence is the one already completed and preserved inside you:
“A spring overflowing its springbox. A freshness in the centre of the chest. This other intelligence does not turn yellow or stagnate. It’s fluid, and it doesn’t move from outside to inside through conduits of plumbing -learning. This second knowing is a fountainhead from within you, moving out.”
– Jalaluddin Rumi
The Two Intelligence In general, the increasing specialisation in knowledge reduces our focus to narrow topics of study and objects in isolation. I would focus on dissecting them instead. So rather than synthesising the acquired intelligence with holistic approaches, I realised that I learned vast amounts of knowledge in the physical world. Still, it has also produced a disjointed, fragmented world that leaves me feeling alienated and orphaned from the universe.
For me, getting myself into art is just something I needed to do. This thirst, this hollowness, needs to be quenched and filled by the spring water from the fountainhead inside of me. I need to find that fountainhead. I don’t know. I feel both fear and excitement about what I might encounter along the way. The destination is not the reason for this journey; it can never be because it is intuitively based—how can you define intuition?
All this while, my imagination has been constrained and narrowed by the limiting ideas and contexts I was accustomed to. I was lulled into passivity, and my creative capacity was dulled through a constant barrage of media images and frenzied life pace. I have discovered the therapeutic field of abstract expressionism and found it liberating, as the creative process focuses on the journey of discovery rather than the final outcome.
By immersing myself in the process of artmaking, I began to notice stirrings within myself – resistance, insights or inspirations, joy, sadness – all of which are food for self-reflection and spiritual growth. I realised that artmaking needs time and spaciousness, which helps me slowdown in my busy life. It is like an incubation period where I need to step away for the insights to occur. I slowly learn to surrender to a process greater than myself and to loosen my tight grip on control.
This exegesis serves as an entry point into the interconnected worlds of art and science, exploring their shared ability to inspire, question, and transform. Throughout this book, I explore the dynamic relationship between these two disciplines, guided by my own experiences as a material scientist and artist. These seemingly distinct fields converge in unexpected ways, offering profound insights into creativity, perception, and the nature of reality.
The metaphor of Spring Water, introduced in Exegesis 1, represents an ever-flowing source of inspiration that fuels both scientific inquiry and artistic creation. Here, I discuss how art is embedded in our inherent nature, drawing parallels between natural processes, such as biomimetic designs of the banana leaf, and the abstraction of function in artmaking. This exegesis also examines the role of perception and how reality is shaped by both temporal and spatial constructs, touching upon Baudrillard’s concepts of simulation and abstraction.
Exegesis 2 in Microstructure to Microsociety investigates the interplay between visual perception and the creative process, drawing from my background in material science to
reinterpret scientific principles like isomorphism within the context of artmaking. My artwork Morphism: The Lycanthrope exemplifies this transformation, presenting art as a continuum that bridges disciplines and transcends categories.
The stories interspersed throughout—Tales from the Cat Town: Boy, Girl, Mayor, and The Town—provide narrative pauses, offering allegorical reflections on the themes of creativity, individuality, and community. These tales serve as metaphors for the human condition, mirroring the philosophical inquiries posed in the exegeses.
In Exegesis 3 and 4, I explore the interconnectedness of the creative process with its environment, much like an ecosystem. Here, the vulnerabilities and hesitations inherent in creation are documented alongside the symbiotic relationship between the artist, the medium, and the process itself.
The book culminates in the Post Exegesis: The Resonance of Art and Science, where I reflect on the culmination of these inquiries. This reflection emphasized the profound
connections between art and science, framing them as complementary forces that shape our understanding of the world and ourselves. In sharing personal anecdotes, insights, and artistic explorations, I invite readers to reflect on their own creative journeys and the boundless possibilities of interpreting reality.
I shared my personal musings and reflections on the importance of recognizing gaps in knowledge and experience. I highlighted the limitations of acquired knowledge and emphasizes the importance of tapping into the inherent intelligence within us. Through immersion in the art-making process, I discovered a sense of liberation and self-reflection, finding that the creative process is about the journey of discovery rather than the final product. Overall, this book sets the stage for a deeper exploration of the art-making process and invites the reader to join me on my journey of self-discovery and creative expression. I hope it will encourage readers to recognize the inherent intelligence within themselves and to approach the creative process with an open mind and a willingness to learn and grow.
Welcome to my journey….
Lyne Ismail/Roslina Ismail, PhD
Interchangeably: A Hybrid
Non-Purist, Neither Here Nor There Kind of Artist
Feb 2025
