art works

sonic multimedia art works by jimmy peggie - acrylic paint, charcoal, ink, paper.  it invites viewers to notice texture, atmosphere, and subtle shifts in tone, much like listening deeply to sound.  

these works often feature textured, atmospheric, and minimalistic aesthetics such as barren deserts, decaying surfaces, dusty rocks, abandoned structures, and subtle manipulations of light and environment.

Jimmy Peggie: Notes Toward a Small Art

There is an art that does not announce itself. It does not seek resolution, climax, or spectacle. Instead, it settles into the periphery, small, lo-fi, quiet, asking to be encountered rather than consumed. This kind of work operates at the scale of attention rather than impact. It is introspective and durational, revealing itself slowly through repetition, erosion, and time.

At its core, this art is minimalist not as an aesthetic posture, but as a condition. Reduction is not about purity; it is about leaving room. Space for dust, grain, silence. Space for what has been worn down. Surfaces appear monochromatic, but never flat - layered with faint variations, like sediment or weathered concrete. What looks uniform at first begins to vibrate the longer you stay with it.

Erosion is a central logic. Materials feel ancient even when newly made, as if they have passed through multiple lifetimes. Edges soften. Signals degrade. Meanings blur. This erosion mirrors both nature and the urban environment: stone worn by water, asphalt cracked by heat, digital noise accumulating in compressed files. The work sits between these worlds, neither pastoral nor industrial, but quietly environmental - attuned to systems rather than scenes.

Grain and dust are not defects here; they are evidence. They point to process, to duration, to the universe at a scale that exceeds human time. Dust is cosmic as much as domestic. Grain connects the body to the image, the ear to the sound, the present moment to something vast and impersonal. In this way, the work is intimate without being expressive. It does not confess; it resonates.

Repetition plays a crucial role. Not repetition as pattern, but as persistence. Slightly altered loops, recurring forms, subtle shifts that only register through patience. This repetition becomes vibrational, it's felt more than understood. It echoes how cities hum, how forests cycle, how thoughts return in the mind during quiet moments. The work does not progress; it remains, allowing the viewer or listener to drift within it.

This art resists the demand to be new. It feels as though it has always existed, or could exist indefinitely. Its temporality is slow, almost geological. To engage with it is to step out of accelerated time and into something closer to listening than looking.

In a culture of volume, scale and clarity, such work can seem fragile or insignificant. But its power lies precisely in its restraint. It offers a different mode of attention.  One that values stillness, accumulation, and the subtle dialogue between the ancient and the everyday. It reminds us that meaning does not always arrive fully formed. Sometimes it settles, like dust, layer by layer.