I am working to get to the promised knowing. It does exist. It is available to me. Every day I am working hard to get there. It is about in-my-face, in-your-face, bold-face truth. This drawing is another step in that direction. Today is another day walking toward the promise.
One never knows if ten days from now there will be sun or clouds, even rain. But I do know I am here, I am vibrant, I am alive, I am making art. This is now. These are relevant works. They may look confusing, even to me. What do they mean? What do they say? Without verbal description I know they are the essence of my knowing. They say important things. Things. Stuff. Things and stuff; that is what I am.
"Startle & Lay Siege" (2021 No.1, state 5), oil on canvas, 36x45 inches {"I was learning at seventy-one what it is to be deranged. Proving that self-discovery wasn't over after all. Proving that the drama that is associated usually with the young as they fully begin to enter life... can startle and lay siege to the aged." -Philip Roth, "Exit Ghost"} There are many ways to approach the emotional energy in a rectangular work of art. I am trying one after the other, looking for robust reflection of my feelings. It is a game. I am challenging my ability to make real the stuff I feel and know. This is research. Try one thing, then another. Take a couple steps forward, then a failure. React to failure. Take another step, hopefully forward. With time and energy, I am getting closer. Success is translating my knowing, my feeling, into the physical image I am making. Look at yesterday's work. Each one is a step in the right direction. Are they fully successful? That feeling of being near, but incomplete, is the reason I return. The success I am experiencing is this: I feel closer to making real that which I know and feel.
"Stubborn & Egotistical" (2020 No.4, state 7), oil on canvas, 67½x55 inches {"If we've learned anything from the best-selling 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid' children's book series, it's that those who see themselves surrounded by idiots are usually idiots themselves." -Jakob Augstein, "Stubborn and Egotistical" (Spiegel Online, 3/25/2013)} I feel clear, lucid, like I know what I am about. Here I am. As 2020 comes to a close, among its turmoil and ruin, I am thriving. Let it be!
The works I show today exude me. That is not new. The new is there are three of them. All of them make sense! They came by internalization. They presented to me, and now to you. These are glorious days! Glorious, because, for the moment in the making of these works, the world I inhabit made sense to me. The sense is, indeed, a grasp of nonsense as well. Clarity of nature is acceptance of confusion. The confusion is in the limits of control. The unanswered question is the non-reason that we lack control. I want it to make sense, but much sense is impossible. These artworks accept their limitation; they celebrate acceptance of limited knowledge. Clarity means acceptance. Limitations are pushed hard. As I worked on these I was pushing on my edge of knowing, each touch went a bit further than the last. By pushing the limits I am pushing beyond yesterday's limits, moving the boundary of understanding a bit further with every effort. These drawing are exploratory; these drawings came like poof! I know the next few paintings will shore up my present knowledge. This is an exciting time. I am who I am. Because of these drawings I am a wee bit closer to knowing who I am. These drawings represent my recent two steps forward, i.e., forward into my present self-knowing.
Yesterday exhibited great potential. Every step I made brought me closer to pure internalization. I witnessed myself as I witnessed my drawings. Each drawing came easier than the last. The last made most sense of all — it had, and has, intense meaning. I felt my way through it as I feel my way through a conversation of great meaning. Here I am. These drawings are profound; they contain revelation and revelation again. I made them till I exhausted all meaning.
I am surprised. I feel wonderment. Where is this stuff coming from? Am I naïve, or am I a simpleton who is easily fooled, easily surprise? I have done this long enough to distinguish valid from bogus. Perhaps I am bottom-feeding, dredging the sludge of my Atman. This is my hope! Yesterday's drawings are different. They are informative, but are they emotionally and intellectually meaningful? I plug on. atman | ˈätmən | (also Atman) noun Hinduism the spiritual life principle of the universe, especially when regarded as inherent in the real self of the individual. The unpleasant reality of being an artist is living one lifetime is not enough. I am getting there. I am becoming more true to myself. This process of self-becoming is slow and steady, punctuated by insights, but devoid of a grand insight that rocks me out of my current reality. I am looking for a reality closer to bottom-line truth. Will I perceive it when I see? I believe I will. I do believe in the old aphorism, "I'll know it when I see it!" Bottom-line knowing is impossible. This is not a reason to give up. I know I am getting closer than ever. My struggle feels right and good. I am getting closer, step by unknown step. I accept my lack of knowing; it is the process that unravels deeper knowing. Knowing is an unfathomable task, but it is also a necessary journey of trust, one I continue because of reward, failure, and success. Yesterday's drawing has a lot of smarts to it. It questions the management of the page, at least in the manner I was managing the page in many previous drawings and paintings. There is no touch of the ground above the forms, yet the viewer can perceive the ground. Vincent Van Gogh, Paul Cézanne, and Charles Burchfield would be disturbed by this lack of touch, but not Philip Guston. (Kudos to Mark, my friend who reminded me to look again at Charles Burchfield.) "The Intervening Tick" (2018 No.6, state 2), oil on canvas, 49x33 inches {"Is that where wise men want us to live; in that intervening tick, the tiny slot that occurs after you have spent hours searching downtown for that new club and just before you give up and head back home?" - Billy Collins, "The Present", from "New Ohio Review" 2017} My life is dominated by art-making. A close second is poetry. Then follows punditry. At times it gets all-mixed-up, i.e., thinking without being convinced. It annoys me when a person believes they clearly know correct from fallaciousness. The dictionary defines a "pundit" as "an expert in a particular subject or field who is frequently called on to give opinions about it to the public" and "an expert, authority, specialist, doyen(ne), master, guru, sage, savant, maven, buff, whiz." It amazes there is such thing as a pundit in this world full of limitations. Punditry is 50% correct. It is like flipping a coin. Me, I am artist. I don't subsist on punditry, but I am a pundit to myself. I prefer poetry because it exudes self-doubt. If I was absolute, sure of my ideas, I would have one great idea and I would make one great painting. Alas, not being sure is a good thing. I am busy with questions. I am busy with answers, a multiplicity of answers. I am a poet. I am not a pundit.
Quizzical these are... I am asking for more than I know. You can see it in the drawing, in that unnatural swoop around the form on the right. Because I am in jungle territory I am going to tread carefully, watch carefully, act with mindfulness, watch for gorillas, hyenas, snakes, and exotic food. I am seeking true nourishment.
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March 2024
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