.Me in 1967.
I've been getting up earlier and have been having these odd memories of when I was a child. As I sip my coffee in the window of the living room, I recall how I saw things approaching, what I wanted, how it would be, and now at 46, how they currently are. There are no great insights, just reflections of odd things; what my home would look like, as I saw it when I was a child, where I would be geographically, the work I'd be doing, the social, the travel. It all seems to be flooding into my head, as if I've uncorked some hidden bookshelf that just re-discovered inside my brain.
I'm finding it funny to recall how I saw things as a child, or what I'd be doing or not doing, and all of and any of the number of things one probably projects in their youth towards their future self. To date, none of it matches, just as an FYI...
I've been focusing on arranging combine paintings[paintings that are composed of smaller paintings]. After painting over 30 individual panels and more coming, it can get a bit discombobulated here in the studio. I'm in the midst of building support/transport structures for the combines, so when shipping or transporting the work, no individual panel carries the weight of the whole. Things are flowing and there is demand for the work, which is something new in the last couple of years. Meditation and maintaining mindfulness has been important tools, and gardening of all things, give me lots of peace of mind of late.
When we are in the midst of chaos, let go of the need to control it. Be awash in it, experience it in that moment, try not to control the outcome but deal with the flow as it comes.
Had a wonderful and long weekend in Portland riding and hanging out with other Lambretta riders at the Lambretta Jamboree. Lots of folks from all across the country and from Scotland and Canada as well! More photos of the weekend are here...
Riffing on a painting here in the studio, when I'm not doing yard work on the new home...
Sun is out, which makes it hard to get inside and make moves, but when I do, they feel good lately. I feel less like I'm editing, and stalling, and more like I'm moving to some odd music in my head. Although there is music playing here in the studio, it's more like I'm seeing a rhythm then acting on it.
I've still been thinking about Cy Twombly and about his passing yesterday, and again it seems hard to imagine him not here in the world making his wonderful and mysterious paintings and things...
multiple target 227[for cy twombly][click here for full size image] - mixed media on canvas and wood panels
Artist Cy Twombly passed away today in Rome. Not since the death of Joseph Beuys in 1986, have I felt so saddened. When I first started to awaken to art back in high school, and begun looking up artists in the library, Cy was one of the first to really shake me. I was feeling a revolution internally, rebelling as much as one could in a suburban neighborhood in Auburn Washington. I looked to music and art to be a guide for where I both wanted to go, and where I went. Twombly's work was musical to me, it had rhythm, poetry, revolution and curiosity all swirled into one. He led me down a path, painting wise, that has been rich and rewarding, and hard to explain at times. As art should can and should be every now and then. He was a constant taking off point, the lift to catch sail, to loosen one's grip, in order to get a better hold. I finished this painting above today, and then went to check on the news of the day. When I heard the news, it seemed only fitting to dedicate this work to him. I'll miss you Cy, and will cherish the work that you left behind...
Jerry Saltz's wonderful Obit today in the NY mag...
if my paintings were in a kitchen, I'd be stirring them in a bowl at this moment. I'm willing to put anything up against something, look at it a bit, move, set it up, move again, and see what comes of it. I'm letting the pots percolate in here at the moment...all ingredients are optional.