Williamsburg

Williamsburg

"I do not live there. I seem to be on the outside looking in. This has always been the case in my life where I have been desperately trying to create a world I belong in."

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A Million Deadly Spores

Let me get straight to the point, there is nothing more powerful than a woman’s notice. It is profound how so much can be said by saying nothing at all.

 "Molly Red and Gold" Oil on Linen 12" x 16"

"Molly Red and Gold" Oil on Linen 12" x 16"

I have often spoken about the communication that exists between people that are in tune with each other. There are signals, nuances, anticipation of movements before they even occur. Behaviors work in concert with the seamless grace of a ballet. It is very similar to watching acrobats flying thought the air. Nothing needs to be discussed any further, one knows and trusts the other will be there at the exact time, and space to make the catch. Come to think of it, we have been doing this with great success and consistency since our very first days on this planet.

We live in the information age. This is a fact. There are more ways to reach someone at any time through multiple forms of media. It is ironic how impersonal all of THAT has become. We dodge phone calls, hide behind emails, and respond with non committal text messages.

Nothing gets through like this primitive form of communication we have been using since the dawn of time. Nothing has the immediacy and power of lovers’ ancient art.

Great Expectations

I am constantly amazed by this beast, these sets of negotiations, these near misses and blatant collisions referred to as the human condition. I will be honest in saying I have come nowhere near figuring it all out. Like a lab rat that keeps going back to the electroshock, I still have an insatiable fascination.

Clearly, life has taught me lessons. Clearly, there are many that have not stuck. Here is a lesson I learned. One that took several years.

 "Breathe" Oil on Linen 18" x 24"

"Breathe" Oil on Linen 18" x 24"

This post is concerned with my process. A process of honesty. A process of self examination. One that spits you out the other side resulting in an undiluted vision; a fearless abandon to take the next steps. One that finally dawned on me.

This image has always been arresting to the people I have shared it with. I could never put my finger on why. To me, the whole thing seemed perfunctory. I did this because I was working towards making a life dream a reality. When I had painted this picture I was at the end of a relationship with someone I was deeply in love with. At this particular point in our lives what we had did not match our expectations.  She appears startled, not comfortable with the situation she is in; for me I guess the same. There is a noticeable tension between the subject and the environment. It is something that happens all the time.

Looking back on it all, it finally dawned on. There is no need to dig for deeper meanings. No need to prove a point or find something to say. It is already there. I have said this so many times (add nauseum) that what makes good art is to depict life. That which is. It doesn’t really work when you find a model and paste a meaning on top of it. It never comes across the same way. I have learned to let go. I have learned to fear less, and dare I say, to want more. I have learned how to tell a story.

So. Jealous.

Are we down for the same cause?
We don’t know what we stand for
When the moments start to crack
You do loose track where your head’s at

- John Frusciante

 "Dirty Mind (Red) Graphite Pencil and Oil Paint on Paper 30" x 22"

"Dirty Mind (Red) Graphite Pencil and Oil Paint on Paper 30" x 22"

It is often said that there is nothing new under the sun and most of what we do has already been done. Revolutions come and go, new waves of thinking replace established ideologies only to be replaced inevitably by something else. We form oppositions, a resistance, an under ground. We are bohemians, literati, intelligentsia. One question still has yet to be answered throughout this time honored exercise: Who are we really? Collectively and as individuals?

It is very easy to be against something, we do it all the time. We used to call them sit ins, now we occupy. Once there were hippies, now we have hipsters. Once there was free love, now there is … well… gross.

It seems to be in our DNA to be rebellious and in opposition to power; after all it is the very principle this country was founded on. We have culminated this mind frame inside our borders, perfecting it. Once ready and past the dress rehearsal we broadcast it into the world like a beacon. Our narrative is full of sweeping changes brought on by a spark that ignited a raging fire. History repeats itself.

We live in a time where we no longer have faith in many of our established leaders. We had a credit crisis, Lance Armstrong was stripped of his titles and Bernie made off with the money.

Who are we as Americans right now?

We are adolescents.

We are precocious, too smart for our own good and constantly fighting with our parents. We know everything better but the idea of being out on our own scares us to death. We know who we don’t want to be. We are figuring out who we will be.

We take the utmost care to express ourselves. We adopt new slang, dress in style no matter how ephemeral or capricious it is, and choose music to speak for us. We can be insecure and crave affirmation only to pretend we don’t really need it by adopting a reticent air of superiority. One thing is for certain, we can never be alone. It seems we need a strength in numbers to forge ahead. We are incredulous, insatiable and never satisfied. It seems we are restless and a generation born with wanderlust.

This is the first of a series: the Red, the White and the Blue.

Red for the tremors inside all of us we can not quell.