Yesterday's drawing surprised me. That drawing did not surprise me as much as our world gone bazzarro. Yesterday a large crowd of well educated, relatively intelligent folks, sat in a room applauding a bully-full of denigrating and dishonest comments. The comments were aimed at good folks, aimed at people calling a spade a spade. By spade I mean a tool with a sharp-edged, typically rectangular, metal blade and a long handle, used for digging or cutting earth, sand, turf, etc. (the dictionary definition). I digress; back to the importance of making art: I do not particularly like yesterday's drawing. Yesterday brought two things I do not particularly like, both need to be revisited with honesty in the forefront. My part is this: I must hunker down into my emotions. The drawing seen here is a technical marvel, but it does not engage emotionally. That is my failure. I need to go back, allow my emotional juices to flow onto the page. Moving a form here, a bit of light there, darkness over here, is not good enough! I am obligated to spill the beans of my tumult in real time.
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