JON POBLADOR
Repetition and Meaning in My Art
In graduate school, a professor once told me during a critique that my work was too repetitive. He wanted to see something different, and I understood where he was coming from. It’s a comment that has stuck with me over the years, and I still think about it. Growth and change are important in art, but over time, I’ve come to see repetition not as a limitation but as a way to revisit ideas that still have something to offer. It’s become a process of reaffirmation—a deeper dive into what feels unresolved or worth exploring further.
I’ve realized that repetition itself is a form of change. Each time I revisit an idea, small shifts happen—whether in process, intention, or context. These subtle differences keep the work evolving naturally, allowing meaning to deepen over time rather than feeling forced. For me, that’s where the beauty of repetition lies.
Religion and Repetition
Repetition has always been part of human expression, especially in religion. Whether it’s in prayer, meditation, rituals, or art, repetition reinforces meaning and devotion. While I’m no expert in the psychology behind it, it’s clear that repeated patterns in religious practices often point to something infinite or divine—a way of connecting to what feels larger than life.
Ten years ago, I visited the Kizil Caves in western China, and it was one of those moments that stayed with me. Seeing the repeating images of the Buddha felt deeply moving—almost like standing in a gothic cathedral for the first time. It was a reminder that repetition can represent more than just eternity. It can hint at something transcendent, something beyond our immediate grasp.
Repetition in the Grid
For me, repetition naturally leads to patterns, and I’m drawn to geometric shapes because of their order and structure. That’s why grids show up so often in my work. While I can appreciate the unpredictability of chaos, I find comfort in the balance and flexibility that grids offer.
A grid isn’t just a tool for composition—it’s a framework for discovery. It gives me a set of rules to work within but also allows endless variations. That tension between restriction and possibility feels important to me. Even though my work often repeats, no two pieces are exactly alike. Each iteration represents how repetition brings about change—a way to refine and reimagine while staying rooted in core ideas.
Repetition as Meditation
Meditation, for many people, involves repeating an action or sound to focus the mind and reach a kind of clarity. That’s how I feel about my process. Back in the early 1990s, I started a project where I copied biblical texts over and over until the page was filled. Eventually, the words became lines, circles, or abstract marks. What started as an act of repetition evolved into something meditative, and it taught me patience, focus, and a new way of thinking about art. That project also led me to explore Buddhism, which has influenced my practice in many ways.
These days, my paintings have a similar meditative rhythm. I layer thin acrylic paint—sometimes up to 15 to 20 layers—until I achieve the texture and relief I’m looking for. I draft the lines carefully, but the painting itself is all done freehand, without masking tape. It’s slow, deliberate, and deeply focused, and for me, it’s as much about the process as it is about the finished piece.
While I don’t identify as a Buddhist, I practice sitting meditation regularly, and I see my art as an extension of that. For someone viewing my work, the result might seem minimal or straightforward, but for me, the meaning comes from the time, labor, and focus that went into making it. Repetition, in this sense, becomes a form of meditation and growth. Each piece changes subtly through the act of creation, reflecting the journey it took to bring it to life.
“I think certain types of processes don’t allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform—or perhaps distort—yourself through that persistent repetition, and make that process a part of your own personality.”
― Haruki Murakami