 Drawing 09·29·2022, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Over the last week I have made numerous drawings. These are risky drawings, all in search of trueness to myself, the enlightened child born from years of labor, years of thoughtfulness. These drawings are stepping stones on my path, a path not mine to choose. I must follow my path if I am to reach personal satisfaction. My path is fraught with risk. In the past, my intellect, and my emotional needs, have tricked me. I have been tricked because I desire to fit the Artistic molds invented by others, i.e., Art which has found approval from scholars, historians, and critics.
 Drawing 09·22·2022, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches  "Shape of Things to Come" (2022 No.8, state 3), oil on canvas, 53x55 inches I feel good. I am going somewhere true. Will that place be one of total success? No way! I go a direction, but every direction has its imperfections. I do that which I must. Yesterday's work, show here (as always), speaks volumes. The volumes it speaks is not only in form and depth (Art Principle stuff), but it exhibits my work not as an ethic, but as a desire to be felicitously moving along.
 Drawing 07·31·2022, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I don't like this one. My last two weeks have been filled with my house's infrastructure problems. I put a lot of energy into necessary domicile fixes. I got tired. This drawing looks tired; nothing special. As promised, in all cases (good, bad, or ugly), I show you my formal artistic output. (Informal is my sketchbook, which I rarely share.)
 "Silence, Exile, and Cunning" (2022 No.1, state 12), oil on canvas, 48x57 inches, {"I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use, silence, exile, and cunning." - James Joyce (1882-1941), "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" (1916)} This is better than Cherry Pie. I am taking myself to heart; this means I am accepting, I am embracing my whims, my frailty, my inconsistencies, my worries, my propensities, my failures, and my successes, This is not easy for me. I am a colossally confusing entity. I want, I need, I chase, I emote. Taken as a package, I am not easy to manage. It is not easy to get along with myself. I am often uncomfortable; I failure often, which is difficult to accept. My successes must be recognized. I am learning to recognize my successes as important documents, notes to myself. These notes enumerate things important to embrace, to make mine. My acceptance of successes will lead me past my failures. I am on a journey to better, more righteous fields.
Yesterday I took "Silence, Exile, and Cunning” a big step toward acceptance of me. I hung in there through many small failures on my journey to make it more mine, to make it succeed for me.  Drawing 01·14·2022, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I fail to do everything I am capable of doing when optimism gets in my way. This drawing, from yesterday, begun in an optimistic high, fails to do all I am capable of doing. I want more spatial depth. This drawing's major, slithering form fails to be all it might have been. I am back at it today, albeit less optimistic. I hope my lack of optimism is a good for my Art.
 "Tonstant Weader Fwowed Up" (2021 No.10, state 6), oil on canvas, 56x62¼ inches, {"And it is that word 'hummy', my darlings, that marks the first place in 'The House at Pooh Corner' at which Tonstant Weader fwowed up." - Dorothy Parker (1893-1967), in "The New Yorker", 20 October 1928, reviewed by Dorothy Parker as "Constant Reader"} I thought I made some progress, now I see it is not enough. Woe is me. Far to go before I sleep.
 Drawing 10·30·2021, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Two questions are always there. When is there enough Information? When is there too much information? Every work I make asks these questions. Some get away from me; I answer nothing. Those that get away indicate I failed to understand. I fail to see. I have failed to be fully present, fully reflective, fully decisive. Yesterday I was filled with decisiveness. Did I succeed? Did I answer my questions. This morning I am uneasy. I look. I do not know. I cannot decide.
 Drawing 10·08·2021 No.2, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  Drawing 10·09·2021, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches When does seeing become believing? For me, not soon, perhaps never, perhaps now. I have contempt for my own work. When concluded it never fully satisfies. I doubt success, so I do more. In doing I appreciate my own ability to see and feel my way to sense and sensibility. In the conclusion I find no happiness. I like these drawings, I doubt these drawings. Therefore I return to make more.
 Drawing 08·15·2021, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  "Honorable Terms" (2021 No.7, state 10), oil on canvas, 52x59⅞ inches, {"The roots of reason are imbedded in feelings — feelings that have formed and accumulated and developed over a lifetime of personality-shaping. These feelings are not a source of weakness but a resource of strength. They are not there for occasional using but are inescapable. To know what we think, we must know how we feel. It is feeling that shapes belief and forms opinion. It is feeling that directs the strategy of argument. It is our feelings, then, with which we must come to honorable terms." - James E. Miller, Jr., "Word, Self, Reality: The Rhetoric of Imagination" (1972)} You have to see it to believe it. Reproduction does, indeed, suck. Reproduction cannot represent the fine quality of a fine work of art. The more nuanced my work becomes the more my effort at adequate reproduction fails. The drawing I show you today took me three days to complete. That is long time for me. It is a complex drawing; it is subtle and nuanced. The painting, "Honorable Terms", has not changed since last I showed it here. I photographed "Honorable Terms" a second time, it remains in state 10. This reproduction of "Honorable Terms" is much better than last I showed here.
 "Gonna Speak to the Crowd" (2021 No.5, state 9), oil on canvas, 62¾x57⅜ inches, {"I'm gonna spare the defeated — I'm gonna speak to the crowd. I'm gonna spare the defeated, boys, I'm going to speak to the crowd. I am goin' to teach peace to the conquered. I'm gonna tame the proud." - Bob Dylan, "Lonesome Day Blues" (2001)} This art-making is a dirty, messy, destructive/constructive process. The painting, "Gonna Speak to the Crowd", is moving between destruction and construction. It ain't over yet. The process has been dramatic, dynamic, revelatory. More will come. I will continue to solve the mystery that is me. I am foolish, yet I do recognize truth when I see it. I am doing enormous work by seeking truth through the process of destroying falsehoods. Simultaneously I am feeling foolish and intelligent. Why did I create complexity that was obviously falderal? I watched myself bending this thing toward NOT speaking to the crowd. How did I allow myself to stray far away from truth telling? I can look back because I post every state of a painting on this blog; I see I lazily followed a path of squiggle and squabble. Did I believe if I did enough mark-making I would find my way? I did delude myself. I can't solve my personal mystery by being indolent about the facts. I must be strong, I must pull upon my heart strings till they yell, "Yes, this is the proper way toward truthful self-expression.
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At MEHRBACH.com you may view many of my paintings and drawings, past and present, and see details about my life and work. Archives
December 2022
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