 Drawing 11·14·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I am no longer able to behave badly. Even when I try to risk everything I end up with stuff like this. Organization and clarity have been beaten deep within me; I cannot resist moving toward solutions that call out with a spirit of self-realization. Here it is, yesterday's drawing. I intended to make a quick study, then move on to finishing the painting "Sentence" (2019 No.4). Instead I got locked here, into the force of my own creation. Drawing has become a mindful and mediative experience, dictated by depths that must be intellectual, but are nowhere near out-loud knowing. These come as forces of nature; they become themselves by themselves. I just show up to move the pencil on the paper.
I believe this will occur in my painting as well, but I am not there yet.
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 "Gunfire Across My Consciousness" (2019 No.5, state 9), oil on canvas, 48.5x32.5 inches {"My mind is just like a spin-dryer at full speed; my thoughts fly around my skull... Images gunfire across my consciousness... I jump in awe at the soul-filled bounty of my mind's expanse." -Christopher Nolan, Irish Writer on his reasons for writing "The Eye of the Clock", in November 8, 1987 "Observer"} Methinks this may be done; I am writing about "Gunfire Across My Consciousness", which was started in a flurry of ideas, then bogged into questions with slow answers, and is now coming together in a time of security in knowledge and emotions. I feel good! I believe "Gunfire Across My Consciousness" is a very good painting.
This brings me to the mystery of my creative life. I go through periods when I feel lost, feel very alone; I despair that time and ideas are not great enough. Right now I feel the opposite. I believe I know what I am doing; I just have to show up to get it done. Creativity is cyclical, as are the intellectual and emotional structures in living.  Drawing 11·12·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches This is a tremendous drawing in many spectacular ways. Seeing it authentically, in person, is an awesome experience. I hopped through it. Its making was a prodigious adventure from beginning till end, uplifting in feelings, a great expression of skill!
 "Gunfire Across My Consciousness" (2019 No.5, state 8), oil on canvas, 48.5x32.5 inches {"My mind is just like a spin-dryer at full speed; my thoughts fly around my skull... Images gunfire across my consciousness... I jump in awe at the soul-filled bounty of my mind's expanse." -Christopher Nolan, Irish Writer on his reasons for writing "The Eye of the Clock", in November 8, 1987 "Observer"} Working on perceptions, one day at a time, one perception at a time, absorbing, then reacting to perceived questions, whether true or false; this is the way to build wealth. It is an uphill journey. Stepping, stumbling, but overall gaining. Higher I go; this journey needs health as well as wealth. The painting I did yesterday was revelatory. Some doubts were quenched, my gains are real, I found happiness in my ability to do this. "Gunfire Across My Consciousness" is almost complete. All the drawing I have recently has led me to believe that truth can be found.
 Drawing 11·09·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Yesterday's drawing is highly successful. T.S. Eliot's view of the artist, as dispassionate onlooker of passionate construction, is cathartic. The piece I show today is this. Me, the artist, administered till the drawing fulfilled its destiny. It bobs and rhymes and sings a tune full of rhythm, depth, volume, and quiet self-declaration. In endless satisfaction the viewer can move through it; this drawing gives as much as the viewer gives. This drawing is responsive. This drawing allows pleasurable consummation; the viewer need only commit to enjoying the world it presents.
 Drawing 11·08·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Rhythm and rhyme are beginning to be more obvious. The foundation appearing in my art is recognition of truth-telling, it occurs within the art as it appears. There is no thought of me there, just a reality that is being invented and created. I happen to be the viewer, the father, the progenitor, the conduit. My art becomes sense upon its own, divorced from self-consciousness. This is more true with every piece of art I show up to make. The surprise is this: mastery comes at the cost of dispossession and dispassion.
 Drawing 11·07·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches This week The New Yorker magazine published an article on their online site in their "Page-Turner" section. It is entitled "A Hundred Years of T.S. Eliot's 'Tradition and the Individual Talent'" This article is appropriate to me. I have been wondering out-loud, here, and to my friends, about art and mindfulness. Mindfulness in art, to me, is stating personal truth and reality. If taken literally, this is a monumental task. Knowing oneself is not easy, exhibiting oneself in one's art is even harder. T.S. Eliot's take is fascinating. Eliot believed the artist is a mere conduit of ideas, and those ideas are not necessarily an exhibit of the actual personality of the artist. For Eliot, the artist does not serve as a medium but has a medium: "The poet has, not a 'personality' to express," Eliot writes, "but a particular medium...and not a personality." In Eliot's famous essay, "I...invite you to consider, as suggestive analogy, the action which takes place when a bit of finely filiated platinum is introduced into a chamber containing oxygen and sulfur dioxide... The mind of the poet is the shred of platinum." That is to say, the artist is a catalyst. The artist isn't affected by the reaction, nor does any trace of his personality appear in the final product — but without the artist the reaction does not take place. Apparently Shelley said something similar, i.e, the artist is "the influence which is moved not, but moves."
What a relief it is to remove the intensity of self-criticism, questioning the exhibition (or not) of one's personality in one's art. Reading this article is a relief to me. I struggle with so many aspects of art-making. My art reflects me as its spark and not me as itself. This release from self-hood allows for complexity as solution. Yesterday's drawing is such a thing.  Drawing 11·06·2019 No.1, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches  Drawing 11·06·2019 No.2, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I go along, day after day, wondering, "Is the work paying off? Do I know more today than I did yesterday? Am I making these things with more and more mindfulness? Who be I? Is my true essence being exhibited in my art? Am I getting better at communicating to my viewers? Do my viewers make contact with me through my work? Can my viewers and I become symbiotic without exception?" My list of questions goes on and on. I am trying to reveal my character through my work. This is a funky, rocky road of steps and missteps. Today I feel it worthwhile; I show you excellent drawings. These are excellent drawings because I believe my questions are getting real answers. I feel these drawings communicating better than the ones from the day before!
 Drawing 11·02·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches  Drawing 11·05·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Crazy busy I have been; me around trippin'. I missed a few days of blog. This is what I done in those days: two drawings, one from November 2, one from November 5. This work is grandly inventive, grandly made while centered within a process that is mindfulness. These exemplify a place good for me, one I must accept as worthy to emulate.
 Drawing 10·30·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Mindfulness is filled with humor. Too much reflection on one's origin, or one's end, lends somberness to existence. The fleetingness of existence is humorous; our existence is devoid of eternal consequence. I would be relentlessly somber without humor. I do not like somberness. Life's quickness contains glory, pain, and process. I am choosing to add humor. I will not be forever intelligent and emotive because I am a minute collection of star stuff, Big Bang stuff; I am basic matter and energy. Skill is a curse. It is a responsibility. It opens enormous possibilities. It allows for successful communication. It is painful when neglected or used unwisely. Today you can see me questioning the possibilities of skillfulness; you can see it in the drawing I post today. In humor come my questions. I also post a cartoon. It illustrates human misunderstanding of skill. True skill is rare. Skill exists because its possessor has expanded his/her consciousness. Using skill well allows for depth of meaning, but skill can be used badly to shallowly exhibit sheer bravado.  |
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