Brain Food #847: The desires and denials that lie in what tends to be repeated
The motifs we can, and cannot, see
Thoughts of the day
A visual motif is another form of a pattern, an element of an image that tends to be repeated, and is often there to strengthen an underlying theme. They are ever-present in art: the roses in American Beauty; the paintings and Sicilian Moor heads in the second season of The White Lotus; the ants in the work of surrealists, such as Salvador Dali.
Sometimes, creating repetitions is a deliberate art of manifestation. Van Gogh’s sunflowers symbolised warmth and optimism, perhaps as an attempt to take himself out of the mental depths he was plunged into.
Motifs are not just visual objects — they can be repeated sounds, words, events, phrases, or ideas. In narrative art, a motif helps reveal something about the character or the story, though it may take some effort to see these repeating patterns when the character is ourselves.
Some questions we might ask: What are the motifs in our own life? What is repeated that will help us notice the themes that are there? Looking for those repetitions can be an act of revelation, both in the discovery of ideas but also of lessons.
Some provide meaning and a sense of direction, for seeing patterns (or signs) is a little like making sense of a story. As Oliver Sacks wrote, “To live on a day-to-day basis is insufficient for human beings; we need to transcend, transport, escape; we need meaning, understanding, and explanation; we need to see over-all patterns in our lives. We need hope, the sense of a future.”
Seeing these patterns can be an act of appreciation. In other cases, it could be a source of inspiration. A good idea tends to repeat itself, often through different people and sources. What do you find yourself repeating to others as something you believe in?
And of course, some patterns are there until they are broken, though as today’s poem shows, it may take a few recurrences to notice, and a few more to accept.
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
by Portia Nelson
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I still don't see it. I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
It isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there, I still fall in.
It's habit. It's my fault. I know where I am.
I get out immediately.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V.
I walk down a different street.
One of the most recurring motifs in René Magritte’s art was the apple. His reason for using them was never fully revealed, for the purpose was for the viewer to find the intention behind the patterns, where there may be something hidden, both in a physical and a psychical sense:
“Those of my pictures that show very familiar objects, an apple, for example, pose questions. We no longer understand when we look at an apple; its mysterious quality has thus been evoked […] Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see. There is an interest in that which is hidden and which the visible does not show us. This interest can take the form of a quite intense feeling, a sort of conflict, one might say, between the visible that is hidden and the visible that is present.”
Perhaps that is why a motif may also be a distraction, or a decoy. In The Listening Room, all our attention falls on the apple, which takes up most of the space in the room. If we look at it too long, we might forget that we were invited here to listen.
