 Drawing 07·08·2020, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I draw with such extreme facility that I fear my enjoyment of marking distracts me. Yesterday's drawing is clogged with interesting forms and interesting ideas. But, does this drawing procure expression of my emotional and intellectual self? Or is it simply a joyous expression of marks? Is it just a lot of nice marks because I make marks so well and so easily? I make forms easily too. I compose easily. Do I mark without reservation because it is easy for me? Making Art takes composure, reservation! Art requires qualification; I need to contemplate, be mindful in the doing. Do I agree, or not? Do I approve or not? Acting with reservation means acting in the state of doubt. Mindfulness is being in nexus: knowing, doubting, acting, marking, deliberating, deciding.
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 Drawing 05·03·2020, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches  "Amidst a Falling World" (2020 No.3, state 02), oil on canvas, 66¼x55½ inches {"Should the whole frame of nature around him break, In ruin and confusion hurled, He, unconcerned, would hear the mighty crack, And stand secure amidst a falling world." - Horace (65-8BC), "Odes", book 3, no.4, I.52)} The title of today's blogpost refers to acceptance; I accept the means to my full express is two-dimensional; I am talking about the reality of my substrates. I make art standing in front of flat pieces of paper and flat rectangles of canvas; I draw upon them, both figuratively and literally. I accept composition as a 2D problem; yes, I enjoy alluding to the in/out artifice of 3D space; I no longer delude myself; I cannot accomplish the emotional power I seek, or full engagement of myself, if I do not first engage through two-dimensional expression.
I feel very good about yesterday's work. It is not an end, but it is a step. I am calling out, I am saying, "I know..., this is reality; here is truth in media. Look! I am expressing myself clearly; Why did it take me so long?" My answer, "Because I thought there was a means to expression through defeating the two-dimensional aspect of paper and canvas." I was wrong. I should make sculpture if I wish solely to investigate via the third dimension. I did once. That was not my bag. I enjoy too much the full sweep of hand and arm, the marking of paper and canvas. I enjoy too much the artifice of light on a 2D surface, and the use of color to do so. I enjoy too much these two-dimensional problems.  Drawing 04·26·2020, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches The curse of Covid-19 is upon us all, but there is luxury to found within the detriment, distractions, and detritus. It is the luxury of super-concentration upon oneself. This behavior is normally diminished by outside world concerns, like my exhibitions. Now I have less concerns because I am here in my hunkered-downed home and studio. These luxurious moments are available despite sorrow for loss of life and loss of normality. Yesterday I continued my quest for self-acceptance, and acceptance of the efficacy of flat-on, classical composition. The drawing I made yesterday is complex, but very readable; it moves up/down, left/right, but little to the in/out. It is organized as any flat plane should be organized in order to be read easily, like a page of print with illustrations; nicely two-dimensional in its solution. The painting I show below is the same as shown in my 4/24/2020 Blog Post. I am calling this painting complete; I show it again because I am struggling to reproduce it adequately. This is take-2, from a photo shot yesterday. Reproduction of my art is difficult, never fully satisfying. That is another tragedy of the Covid Era; for full and accurate impact you are gonna have to wait to see my work in person, as it should be seen, as it must be seen to fully comprehend the nuance that is present in all great art.  "Your Decisions Matter" (2020 No.2, state 7), oil on canvas, 52x55½ inches {"It's essential that you believe as if your decisions matter... reality isn't important; what's important is your belief..." - Ted Chiang, "Exhalation", 2019}  Drawing 04·25·2020 No.1, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  Drawing 04·25·2020 No.2, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Am I using the word, Wonky, correctly? The dictionary's second definition is, "having or characterized by an enthusiastic or excessive interest in the specialized details of a particular subject or field." Well then, yes, I am! I am producing head-on, fully-emotional, fully-intellectual, fully-classical, and absolutely viewer-engagement-oriented compositions. There is no fooling around in these drawings! These are wonky at their best, one after another, all wonk! These are detail oriented compositions. They engage using flat, in-the-viewer's-face, emotionally-instructed forms. Their classicism is their left to rightness, their up and downess. These drawings create the artifice of three-dimensional space, but their 3D-ness is second fiddle to their compositions' 2D formal classicism. Pablo Picasso understood this; Picasso understood classical compositional power better than anyone. The most complex of Picasso's images hit the viewer with the flattest of compositional insistence. See below: Take a look at one of Picasso's most complex paintings. Isn't is easy to read? This painting by Picasso is enticingly, head-on, flat? Enjoy! It is time for me to stop fighting the obvious! Picasso gave in; I also have decided to give in to the obvious. To drive my point home I show one more painting by Pablo Picasso; this one from Picasso' so-called NeoClassical Period, when the artifice of 3D space was moderated by their 2D Classical Compositions! (Below, see "Pipes of Pan", one of my favorite paintings by Picasso!)  Pablo Picasso, "The Kiss", oil on canvas, 130.5x97.7 cm, 1925  Pablo Picasso, "Pipes of Pan", oil on canvas, 205x174.5 cm, 1923  Drawing 04·19·2020 No.1, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  Drawing 04·19·2020 No.2, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches My focus is moving toward page organization; I desire immediate, full engagement of the viewer. This cannot be achieved without the viewer's first encounter being head-on impactful. I will continue to explore this problem. My looking for answers will never end. You will see me exploring, drawing by drawing, painting by painting. Yesterday's drawings are steps along my way on the path that is this investigation.
 Drawing 02·09·2020, graphite on paper, 20x16 inches  "Something Else Entirely" (2019 No.4, state 21), oil on canvas, 38.5x62.5 inches {"And you’d spend years trying to decipher the sentence, until finally you’d understand it. But after a while you’d realize you got it wrong, and the sentence meant something else entirely." - Tadeusz Dąbrowski, from the poem "Sentence"} I do not know what I do not know. There are all kinds of ways to create depth and internal energy on a flat surface. I am working toward that, but look (below) at this painting by Julie Mehretu! Mehretu condenses and releases form. Her work is a revelation to me. In my drawing, the one I show today, I play this way too. However, the depth in Mehretu's "Stadia II" is far greater than that which I create is either of my works shown in this post. In "Stadia II" Mehretu creates depth by use of perspective lines at the bottom of the canvas, and smaller forms at the top. Depth is forced in other ways too. The clogging of darker forms at the top forces the eye to think hanging banners (like in a basketball stadium); the eye passes underneath those banners, back to the gray forms that reside (artificially) behind them. This is an exciting, masterful vision; one that creates a robust vision of three-dimensions on a two dimensional surface. To see Mehretu's mid-career Retrospective, visit the Whitney Museum of American Art (June 26 — September 20) or the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (now through May 17).  Julie Mehretu, "Stadia II", 2004, ink and acrylic on canvas, 9x12 feet  Drawing 09·15·2019 No.1, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  Drawing 09·15·2019 No.2, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches  "Sentence" (2019 No.4, state 8), oil on canvas, 37x61.5 inches {"And you’d spend years trying to decipher the sentence, until finally you’d understand it. But after a while you’d realize you got it wrong, and the sentence meant something else entirely." - Tadeusz Dąbrowski, from the poem "Sentence"} I love onions. They go in everything I make, except brownies. Moly has two definitions: (1) a southern European plant related to the onion, with small yellow flowers. (2) a mythical herb with white flowers and black roots, endowed with magic properties. I'll go with the second definition because my work is becoming magical; in the very least, it is magical to me! I have been working very hard on staying mindfully centered while making art. This is falling into play that is totally dependent on recognizing momentary truth in my marks, my forms, my composition, and my attitude. I am not sure this makes sense to you, but it is making more and more sense to me. The result is me getting closer to a reality that I cannot anticipate, but I recognize as one step in my path to an unknown, but totally legitimate, future. Holy Moly! My art continues to become more self-fulfilling. This continually surprises me. It is a thrilling journey! It is filled with unexpected truth.
Yesterday's drawings hunker down, into the stuff that makes me want to draw. Yesterday's painting took one more step toward its satisfaction. Yesterday, in an email, a friend of mine said he preferred Beethoven's Symphonies to Beethoven's quartets. I am just the opposite. Beethoven's Late Quartets have, to me, immediate potency; they are an intoxicant I measure by the great amount of my emotional responsiveness. I feel the same about several of Schubert's quartets, and also of a few of Brahms' piano trios. My drawings are my quartets. My paintings are my symphonies. When over and done, I love them equally, but the drawings are more directly related to my immediate emotions. I believe this emotional immediacy is the reason I thirst to listen to Beethoven's quartets more than his symphonies. Beethoven's symphonies are fully satisfying, but like a painting, they take much more time, and involvement, to fully realize. I am an anxious and needy sort; my immediate connection to the nuanced emotions in Beethoven's Late Quartets allows me to fall deeply, into a passionate trance.  Drawing 07·09·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I failed yesterday if simplicity be my goal. It is not! I want the intellectual and emotional satisfaction of complex images and the direct and immediate engagement of simplicity. Ellsworth Kelly achieved great visual impact using simple images. Kelly's work satisfies emotionally and intellectually. His is a great achievement. As much as I envy Kelly's direct route to completely fulfilling art, I am not Ellsworth Kelly; I am myself. My path continues to be discovered, step by currently unknown next step. Yesterday's drawing was such a step. It taught me; I reflect upon it. I want the negative space in my art to be as effective as Ellsworth Kelly was able to achieve in his art.  Ellsworth Kelly, "Untitled", oil on canvas, 1958  Drawing 07·07·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Purification is occurring, but is it right and good? There must be a middle ground that makes sense. I do like intellectual answers brought upon the viewer by asking a complexity of questions. I enjoy darting around an image, looking for sense in nonsense. Open negative space is exhilarating when handled well, when breathtakingly emotional in design. Complexity within the darkness that is shadow and form can also be emotionally breathtaking. Yesterday's drawing is a huge question. I do not pretend it is anywhere near a definitive, archetypal answer.
 Drawing 06·22·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches In life there is struggle to see clearly. The murkiness of people, things, and emotions obscure easy access. Muck, rubbish, and dirt get in the way of truth-telling; clarity is found by consistently pushing the falderal out of one's way. Such is my journey. Reason is not enough. This is slow because the rubbish is much. Yesterday's drawing dealt with this dichotomy. There is left and right; there is heaven and earth. There is darkness and light. The left is shadowed, invokes a search for nuance. The right is easier on the eyes; it invokes simplicity and strength. The monument on the right is clear. The monument on the left struggles to be seen. Both monuments are pyramids, one tall and lean, one fat yet sturdy in its dark surroundings. Obvious, there is play between murkiness & limpidity.
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