Perfection is a myth. Some questions can be answered. No sophisticated question can be answered with a perfectly correct sophisticated answer. Why is the sand wet? "Because the the sea weed!" That is NOT the correct answer. Sand being wet is NOT confusing. But the answer to the question of it being wet can be deceptively given, albeit humorous. This is not my game. I am trying to go right at myself, right at self-expression. No deception here. Yesterday's drawings were two steps in the right direction.
Have you noticed? I have not been painting a lot! Well, after making yesterday's drawings, I believe major paintings are coming. Drawings are my first experiments with truth. Paintings require me to extend my truth-making over days, sometimes months. I must feel truth deeply in order to sustain a painting. There is so much substantial truth in these two drawings that I believe they are harbingers of great paintings to come.
There is a certain moment in the Oeuvre of every artist I admire, a moment of transition, out of messy questioning and into disciplined clarity. This is my moment!
Continuity of methodology is a good thing when there is no methodology at all. No preconception made these drawings, no bias, unless you count the use of a rectangle of paper as a preconceived choice, which (of course) it is. The torture that is the difficulty of being within the moment, rather than dwelling on the pleasures that are assuredly accessible from the litany that is learned experience, never stops. In the end, if attendance to the moment is complete, suffering the moment becomes no suffering at all; it becomes simply that which is, that which is without anything except one's presence.
Yesterday felt right and good; I knocked around my images, as one does when searching a wall for a solid stud. These images, the ones I show today, are solid. They hold their own, They have strength and dignity. They demand perusal. They give satisfaction. That said, the painting,"Clever Liars", is incomplete. It requires sheer work, mindful work, to reach finality. It is almost there; it asks me, "When is enough good enough?" In others words, its essence is true; I cannot get much more truth by adding nuance, so why continue to develop it? Here is where a discussion of perfection is relevant. Simple it is: Intuitively I feel the need to make each one of those bright, cone-like objects, truly lit, truly three-dimensional in feel — their surfaces must feel touchable, like an egg in a Chardin still-life (see below).
The drawing is complex, indomitably readable, pure in its contrast of forms, forms left versus forms right. It this gaslighting? Does it make you question your sanity? My intension is to educate, not to admonish, "Ultimate sanity is comprehension, then acceptance; Contrast is part of our social order!"
The drawing on the top is complete, done; the drawing on the bottom is incomplete, undone. "Undone" is harsh, but apt. It calls for correction; it calls for being put right; it is missing an element of angst, thus lacks effective strength of character. I won't be able to return to this drawing till tomorrow. It is complex; I did not have enough time to complete it in one session.
I am fascinated with the top drawing. In some areas the pencil barely scrapes its surface, other places it is deep and dark. Its mode of manufacture was quite different than the drawings shown in the previous post, which spilled out with force and clarity; this one came slowly, measured, feeling quite different in its creative process compared to the two drawings which preceded it.
Yesterday's happiness, and optimism, was misplaced; the drawing posted in yesterday's blog was not "in the moment", it was a step back into security of ideas already imagined, already questioned. Here are two steps forward in two drawings. I did not feel as ebullient in the making of these two drawings, as I did in the making of the one drawing from 06/25/2020. This, it seems, is a good thing. In these drawings I was in there, in the moments of their creations; not looking back, not looking forward; just there.
I am a wave. I am a progressive. I surprise myself. I create stuff never seen before. I will continue, one day at a time, one step at a time, on a path to a place unknown. I am surprised; I am surprised everyday.
I heard Dave Chappelle say our current President is not the wave, he is surfing the wave. Waves go in and out. Idiots can surf, but they are unable to be the wave itself. Political progressives are waves. They are splashing onto our cultural beaches. Progressives erode our culture's ingrained, holdover ideas. Norms must be overhauled for our culture to be the best it can be. Progressives see a better way. It is unfortunate our current President has a bully pulpit; he calls to his slow-minded admirers, who want nothing to change. Progressives will replace the old with better. Progressives are creative, as creative as the wind that drives them. The wind moves our culture in the right direction. Unfortunately, we are forced to watch our President, an angry surfer, who speaks as if there is no Global Warming, as if nothing is changing. This guy likes the old ride, he likes his old Cadillac, not a new Tesla. His craziness is his old, dreary ideas; ideas that were set in the early days of our Republic. Old ideas need to change in order to recognize who we are right now. Our old man President learned to surf a long time ago. It is unfortunate his mind is not open to our needs. Changes are required in order to make us a better Republic.
I was working on this drawing when my brother called. I do not consider this drawing finished. Its essence has been established; it requires another look, reflection, then alteration. Perhaps then satisfaction will occur. Come back tomorrow to see this drawing's final state.
I am at a point of departure. I am stepping, not particularly caring where I go, but resolutely. This is not a time for self-judgement. It is time to allow images to be born out of intuition, deep knowing intermingled with angst. All bets are off; all absolutes are off, dependency upon past masters is off. I am just doing it.
I show today images like nothing I have done before; nothing I have seen before. Have you seen anything like these? These works are allowed to exist because they do not crush past knowledge, they enhance it. They are informed by the past, but they step out from it, not from underneath it.
The struggle to be free is all about the rectangle. I have to fill that rectangle with notice. I have to fill it with emotion and intellect. I have to fill it with truth and authenticity. I have to make sense within it, thus allowing the viewer to make sense with it or without it. The viewer is outside of it, looking in. My images must engage immediately with immediacy. My images are becoming this, a reality unto themselves derived from all I am and can be. I have found freedom by acceptance of the rectangle's requirement of full frontal truth. I am now able to perform on the highest level of intellect and emotion. This is what I got, so here I am showing it off!
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