Seabirds

Today I want to tell you about the two most important seabirds of my formative years.

The first bird was called Jonathan Livingston, and he was the main character of a small book I read dozens of times (Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach). Jonathan wanted to be different from other seagulls, he wanted to fly higher and faster. He trained and trained and trained, working tirelessly to learn more about flight and momentum, and being ostracised by his flock in the process. One day his hard work pays off, and he reaches a higher plane, where he meets two other, luminous, seagulls. He leaves with them to continue his training with like-minded birds, before returning to share his knowledge with other non-conforming birds in his flock and others.

The other bird didn’t have a name. He was the allegoric albatross of the Baudelaire poem of the same name, clumsy and awkward on the ground, but soaring high and majestic as soon as he took flight. A sad story of sailors mocking and abusing the birds who trail their boat, the poem’s meaning suddenly changes in the last verse, where Baudelaire compares the poet to this prince of the sky, haunting storms and laughing in the face of arrows, but tripping on his giant wings when exiled amongst the crowds.

There is a lot to learn in both texts about the place of the artist in society. In both texts, they are seen as maladaptive, ill at ease with the ways of the world, and misunderstood by their peers. They are mocked and ostracised by the conforming masses, but soar high above them through their art and hard work.

In Baudelaire’s poem, the artist is a lone figure, a giant among men, who cannot be defeated by storms and battles but who is unable to fit in amongst normal people. Describing a very romantic notion of the artist, the poem states that it is the very talent of the artist that places them outside of society- the reason the bird cannot walk is their giant wings getting in the way.

The artist is therefore an outsider by essence, exiled by their talent rather than their experience or by choice. 

Bach’s bird, on the other hand, exiles himself to train. There is no innate talent here, just curiosity and determination, but the result is the same: the rest of the flock, baffled by this unnecessary behaviour- what is the point of flying if not to find food?- shuns Jonathan. 

The other difference is that Jonathan is not alone. He persists, and ends up meeting other birds who share his dreams, and he learns from them and then passes on his knowledge to other birds. Art here is hard work and persistence but it is also as a way to meet and connect with other outsiders.

Both texts have stayed with me as I started to navigate life as an adult, and even more now that art takes up so much room in my world. And  whether you are a gull or an albatross, I think all artists can benefit  from knowing there is a little of a seabird inside of them.

I don’t have any picture of birds in my works, so here is a picture of the sky.