When was the last time you saw an image or view that forced you to pause what you were doing and linger? Did you ever wonder what it was about that image that captured your attention?
I came across a painting, recently, in the window of the Red Rag Gallery of a man in a dark overcoat and hat, standing in a snowy wood. It stopped me in my tracks. Inside the gallery I found more paintings by the artist, Mark Edwards, from his White Wood collection. His story is as inspiring to me as his art.
Music can move me instantly but it takes longer for me to connect emotionally to a visual image and so I have been pondering on what this instant association means to me personally and to the work I do. My musings have taken me to considerations of role models and identity.
I have identified three levels of connection. The first is that the painting has an intriguing story. Since childhood, I have always loved being transported through stories. The second connection is with the man himself. I often wear a dark grey overcoat and am fond of trilby hats. It is not therefore too great a leap to visualise myself in the picture as if the character is wearing my clothes, or I his. I could be that man; he looks someone like me.
And then there is a third deeper connection for me. The man is in the scene and an essential part of its story, yet, at the same time is detached and observing, curious but still. This feels like me – an essential and actively engaged participant in the World in which I live and work, and at the same time able to step outside of that World to observe myself with objectivity and learn.
So, I am interested in the story, I can see myself in the character, and I associate at an emotional level with his actions. I identify at all levels with the image I am seeing.
We know how important it is for us to see and experience role models in life, in work, in our relationships – people who we see as images of our potential future selves. We need them to associate with, to recognise ourselves in them, to believe what could be possible for someone like us, or what is ok for us now. It is part of feeling included and connected.
The man in the painting is not me. I know nothing about him, yet looking at him, I am looking at a version of myself, as if in a mirror. As a coach I hold up a mirror for my clients to see themselves audibly, visually and emotionally.
We all have the power to dream, to imagine, to visualise and to tell stories. What if your story is full of wonder and you are interested in what could happen to you as the principal character? What if someone holds up a mirror for you to see?
You may find your role model, right there, in the mirror.
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