In my last post I queried the efficacy of static frontal compositions versus compositions filled with rotations. The drawing shown today is a visual inquiry into rotation as compositional animator.
Perhaps Florence, the recent Hurricane, has instigated wonder.
What's it all about? I am certainly NOT stuck in a rut! I am driving along, turning a corner. The turn feels slow, lethargic. It does feel familiar. I am winding up, the tension in my rubber band of a soul is increasingly stretched. I feel taut, stressed, anxious, ready to jump. The coming recoil may not be pretty. My current work does not look pretty. Everything looks unappealingly unattractive. Yet, I am filled with optimism.
Yesterday's drawings are, in a simplistic way, exploratory. What can I do with that which I know? Is this craziness? I am more interested in the unknown than the known? Thus I explore, looking to push out of my comfort and into the revelatory uncomfortable. It would be healthier for me to revel in the simplicity of being, here and now. Would it not be better to be happy with the pleasures available to me? Am I a hero if I risk looking for the dark and dank? Or just a crazy idiot? Time and effort will tell.
There is no easy way to make this right. Does time exist at all? Is it not simply the zombie syndrome? We are a bunch of wax and atoms and little bugs that need to work together to find a way to move, despite there being nowhere to go. Symbiosis is the thing. And so, I search among the rubble that is me. Fortunately, I believe I understand better the more I exist, the more I do. So yes, time does exist! At least, time exists in the memory I have created because I am optimistic. I am going somewhere. Yesterday's drawings show progress. They are unique. They have some resemblance to that which I have created before. Still, they are uniquely their own images. My trust in this process increases the more I do. My confidence in process will bring me back to painting. Tomorrow I will return to my most recent painting, "2016 No.4", then I will begin a new painting, "2016, No.5". Hallelujah!
Drawings from 9/10/2015, all are pencil on paper, 16X20 inches
I am an investigative reporter, looking for truth and accuracy in a world filled with deception and misdirection. I am not creating the news, I am making the new. My investigation is this: I am examining the art that is being created today, that which is being deemed "good" by those who claim to be in the know (i.e. the critics of major art publications and art institutions). My art is my reaction to their questionable sincerity, manufactured as it is by observers who are no better than observers of a crime (factuality is always confused during recall). I am unscrambling the confusion. I am finding the authentic.
Drawings from 8/13/2015, both pencil on paper, 20X16 inches
A few days ago I discussed my problem with figurative work. I wondered, was I abandoning it for the abstract? Imagine my surprise when yesterday's first drawing appeared. Then came the second, which seems to have abstracted figures. There is obvious stress between my intuition and my exo-consciousness. Metaphysically, I am observing knowledge in a battle for supremacy: A priori knowledge versus A posteriori knowledge. Does this matter? Not so much. It is who we are. It must be allowed. Will it work itself through? Will it come to conclusion? Can it be resolved? It does not matter where it goes. The questions I ask will produce a lot of possible answers. Such is art.
Who knew? Not me. This stuff I am making looks well defined, but still rough. Rough? Yes, because I am grasping at a set of images that are tumbling around in my confused, yet open, psyche. Art is where the anima and the persona meet. My persona never feels quite right, as if there is a little fake going on, like a running back, whose goal is clear, but whose path in getting there in not. Maybe the reason football is so much fun to watch is its clarity of goal. Art? Not so much! Watching me flail around is probably more fun for you then for me. There are days, like today, that I seriously question my means of getting "there", wherever "there" is.
Be sure to click on the drawings' reproductions for enlarged images. These are very good drawings! The surprise of "now for something completely different" is upon me. I do know what each drawing will bring. These drawings are discoveries made visual. I have given into the flow. As trite as this looks when written, it is reality.
Drawings from 5/16/2015, pencil on paper, 16X20 inches
Abstract and concrete, confusing and clear, alive and well. All of these seem to go together. At least, that is the way it feels today. Intellectually I am aswim. There is an ocean about me, full of life and objects and detritus. My job is not to know all of it, but to wander through it looking for truth, not beauty. Finding beauty is too easy. Beauty is a distraction from the facts of living which require introspection, followed by some kind of answer. My answers come by me poking around, touching this, touching that, asking, "Does that make sense?"
There ain't nothing like a hound dog. There ain't nothing like discovery of making sense. It is the distinguishing between making sense versus nonsense that is the game worth playing. This is not simple, nor easy, but it is the only way to being meaningfully worthwhile. There is constantly the effect of being slightly alien that comes with this activity. I recognize my work as real, but not as comfortable true. As example, why is it necessary that the man's eye in drawing #2 is vertical and poppy out of its socket? I do not know, but it is right.
Drawings from 04/26/2015, each are 11X14 inches, pencil on paper
Drawings from 04/24/2015 and 04/25/2015, each are 16X20 inches, pencil on paper
I seem to be getting more fluid with all that I do. It takes me and uses me and goes where it goes. Is this because I have fallen into investigation of that which is? Possibly. I will follow.
Today exhibits two days of work.
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