Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Friday, October 2, 2015
New painting: Shame
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| Shame |
Saturday, September 26, 2015
New painting: Lamentation of Christ
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| Lamentation of Christ |
Monday, September 21, 2015
New painting: Troops, do you.
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| Troops, do you. |
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Saturday, September 12, 2015
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
New blog post: Trying to figure out the way forward
As more time passes and I don't work, things get sort of weird. I know it's not good for me to stay out of the work loop. I know I have to work and have a job, just that every time I look at what's on offer out there I get bummed out because it all sounds so boring. I end up just Xing out of the window and going on to do something else, like write or work on a painting I am enjoying. The areas I have the most experience in are boring to me, but I could do those jobs wells. It's endless. The pull of knowing there's something you could do for a job, and the pull in the opposite direction that it would bore the living hell out of you and feel like a waste of time.
It's very hard here to get galleries to look at my paintings. When they do, they don't see anything special, but I just love them and think they're great. There is a special energy to them and the choices are interesting. Paintings are made up of hundreds of little choices.
I've always used paper since I started years ago. I've never had much space to work, and living over here in Prague, I figured if I ever wanted to transport pictures back to the US, it would be easier if I could fold them up and stuff them away. Now I see that doing things that way frees you up to make pictures as large as you like. You can build them, spread them left or right up or down as the picture sort of tells you where it wants to go. I try to listen to what the picture wants to be, how big it wants to be, what shape it wants to be. I would like to play with different shapes and sizes and materials, but there's no space for it right now. Paper is the way for now. As far as paints, I used to paint with oils but they take too long to dry, folding paper with oil paint on it bleeds the paint onto all sides and generally ruins a picture. Acrylic is the way to go for now. It dries fast and doesn't crack or come off. Basically everything about the pictures comes down to efficiency. I don't want to spend an hour perfecting a hand. I'd rather trace my own hand, cut it out and paste it on the picture. There. A hand. A perfectly good hand done quickly. I don't really understand working to draw a perfect human figure when a rough outline tells the story just as well. But everyone's different.
I just thought I would write as much as possible. Maybe I'll stick with the plan this time to actually write daily. I don't know. I'm not even sure I get any actual readers to this blog after all these years. It's still mostly for me, to make something, to write something. At least to have something for myself.
It's very hard here to get galleries to look at my paintings. When they do, they don't see anything special, but I just love them and think they're great. There is a special energy to them and the choices are interesting. Paintings are made up of hundreds of little choices.
I've always used paper since I started years ago. I've never had much space to work, and living over here in Prague, I figured if I ever wanted to transport pictures back to the US, it would be easier if I could fold them up and stuff them away. Now I see that doing things that way frees you up to make pictures as large as you like. You can build them, spread them left or right up or down as the picture sort of tells you where it wants to go. I try to listen to what the picture wants to be, how big it wants to be, what shape it wants to be. I would like to play with different shapes and sizes and materials, but there's no space for it right now. Paper is the way for now. As far as paints, I used to paint with oils but they take too long to dry, folding paper with oil paint on it bleeds the paint onto all sides and generally ruins a picture. Acrylic is the way to go for now. It dries fast and doesn't crack or come off. Basically everything about the pictures comes down to efficiency. I don't want to spend an hour perfecting a hand. I'd rather trace my own hand, cut it out and paste it on the picture. There. A hand. A perfectly good hand done quickly. I don't really understand working to draw a perfect human figure when a rough outline tells the story just as well. But everyone's different.
I just thought I would write as much as possible. Maybe I'll stick with the plan this time to actually write daily. I don't know. I'm not even sure I get any actual readers to this blog after all these years. It's still mostly for me, to make something, to write something. At least to have something for myself.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Part of the journey
It would be nice just to show something I've made that I'm proud of in a gallery or anywhere really.
There are days when all that matters to me is to do what you enjoy, to make something, to be in the moment and ignoring stress and worry. On those days, I'm making something special and beautiful regardless if it's seen. I am perfectly ready to receive it, and it arrives perfectly. I'm not focused on myself. Something full of color, proportion, and sentiment, gets made, and I'm there to be part of it.
When I do get through to some place by phone or email, they tell me to send some work. That usually sends me on a tear to make a bunch of new paintings to have something new and fresh to show. Once I send the pictures I rarely get a response.
This is all part of the journey, part of the story, so I believe. You have to talk about it. The ups and downs. The difficulty. The fear and confusion. All that matters is to figure out what's important to you and to do that. That's the only way.
There are days when all that matters to me is to do what you enjoy, to make something, to be in the moment and ignoring stress and worry. On those days, I'm making something special and beautiful regardless if it's seen. I am perfectly ready to receive it, and it arrives perfectly. I'm not focused on myself. Something full of color, proportion, and sentiment, gets made, and I'm there to be part of it.
When I do get through to some place by phone or email, they tell me to send some work. That usually sends me on a tear to make a bunch of new paintings to have something new and fresh to show. Once I send the pictures I rarely get a response.
This is all part of the journey, part of the story, so I believe. You have to talk about it. The ups and downs. The difficulty. The fear and confusion. All that matters is to figure out what's important to you and to do that. That's the only way.
New painting: Dar à luz
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| Dar à luz |
In Spanish "Dar à luz" means to give birth. Literally though it means "to give to light
Picture dimensions and materials:
5 ft (3m) tall, 4ft (3m) wide
Acrylic and chalk on paper
Thursday, August 27, 2015
New painting: Sunrise on the Sower
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| Sun rise on the Sower Acrylic on paper 3ft by 3ft Aug 2015 |
The top portion of this picture could be bolder and there could be more of a contrast, but it's hard when you're trying to take a photo of a painting. It never comes out quite as bold as it should I think because the camera tries to balance sharply contrasting colors. Anyway I use my ipad to take the photos and I imagine they would be better pics if I used a camera. At some point I guess it's important to realize it doesn't really matter if a picture is perfectly finished or not. The color is what I'm after, that the picture is balanced. For a while I've fallen away from what I originally wanted the pictures to be about: something spiritual and colorful. I suppose I've had this image stuck in my head for a long long while.
New painting: Medvidek (Little bear)
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| Medvidek (Little bear) Acrylic on paper 4ft by 3ft Aug 2015 |
But it's not really all that important what the picture is of. I suppose the bear is the main thing. It's really just important that it's full of color and texture and patterns and that it works aesthetically to the eye. That's really the most important thing. Enjoy!
New painting: Bat boy
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Monday, August 24, 2015
New painting: WWII
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| WWII Acrylic and chalk on paper 4ft by 3ft |
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| woman playing violin |
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| House |
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| child's face in the smoke |
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| man leaning over the road |
It's hard. I understand that some people might think that a picture or a drawing should stand on it's own, that it shouldn't require an explanation. I know, for me, for someone who's interested in the things people make, I get the most out of those things when I know where they come from, when I hear the artist's perspective. I remember for a long time not really understanding why Andy Warhol was so interesting. When you read his book or see the documentary about his life, and hear his voice come through, hear his perspective on things, why he made what he made, it makes all the difference. All the sudden I could see why it was beautiful, why it was valued. I feel like these days you have to somehow incorporate your voice into the things you make. There's no time to wait around and see if people will ask questions. That time will likely never come. Whenever I see an interesting picture or an interesting piece of art, it makes me want to hear someone's perspective on the thing, maybe even the artist's if possible. I don't like hearing highly conceptual explanations for things. I would rather know something human about the artist, about why they made it rather than what it means. I feel like that's missing, the human connections to objects. There is so much stuff to see these days, but very little explanation from a human side about why it's here, what purpose it serves, who it's for. I feel like that's the heart of everything though.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
New painting: Connection to nature
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| Connection to Nature
Acrylic and chalk on paper
4ft by 2ft
Aug 2015
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Some help to see the images:
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| Face |
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| Sunrise |
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Friday, July 31, 2015
New painting: Black bird in hand. Wow...people watching
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| Black bird in hand. Wow...people watching 3ft by 2ft Acrylic on paper |
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Writing
I think that the more you write, the more you learn about everything. It seems like as you get older you have more to lose. Certain things become private and not inappropriate to talk about anymore. I thought it would be the opposite way. The older you get, the less you have to lose. I would like to know people as they really are. I wish I could see into people the way you can see into the windows of buildings at night. As people get older they get more shut off, they close the doors, they pull down the shades, they lock the doors. I want to be more open as I get older and stay young. I wanna be able to say, at all times, Hey, look at what I made. Isn't it cool?
I wish the people in my family who are gone now wrote something while they were still alive. I would love to know about their life and their perspective, what it was like for them. Even if they would have written they probably wouldn't have said everything, knowing people would see it. But now all that information and their perspective is lost.
I feel like that at every turn nature is trying to teach me things. Time is short. Everything is valid. Go ahead, write, boy. Write about everything. Write about fear. Everything is something or might be something. Even if it's wrong. So what. Write however you wanna write. It doesn't matter. Or it does matter. Matters the most maybe. Everyone's scared and confused. It's okay. Remember what I said though, your time here is short. Write what you wanna write. Say what you wanna say. If you wanna paint, paint. All that will be left down the road is the way in which you lived.
I feel like if people would talk about their experiences or write or make something, it would bring people together. We're limited by time, but we're here, together, aren't we? I feel like expressing our experiences would relieve some of the paranoia and fear of each other. We live in the safest time in history. I wanna grow and stretch, reach into the dark, not be paralyzed by fear.
I wanna make a life from the things I make. I want to show my art work and my writing without fear. Nobody sees there's incredible depth to the paintings. That's okay. I'm not reporting on some bullshit, I'm trying to get to the heart of something. Everything is mine. It's me. It's mine.
Do what you truly love. Be full and be here. Write about everything and love everything and express yourself. Make beautiful pictures and give things meanings as deep as you want them to be, sometimes not deep at all, just on the surface. That's fine. Use colors and textures. Use different materials. Use wood. Crumple paper, make shapes, tactile pictures. Make something people can touch. Art can transform people. It can open up their heads and transform their brains. You've had it happen to you. And it can look cool too. Bonus.
Just imagine if you could touch a painting in a museum. Imagine if you could run your hands over the hands and faces someone painted a thousand years ago, a person like you, a man like you, or a woman, like your mother, a woman your mother's age, and the security guards would sit there and have nothing to say. It could be an intimate experience.
I wanna write from my heart about what I see and feel and what I think is beautiful, and show people things I made that prove I have an eye for beauty. I don't wanna make art and sell it through a gallery. I wanna make art and sell it myself to people who see the value in what I do. I don't wanna quit. There are times when I don't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. It makes no sense to paint a painting anymore, to even pay for paint. The way things are going everything's digital. Digital means instant distribution. I don't know what it is. The whole time I'm like, no one's gonna see this, what are you doing? Nobody goes to galleries anymore. They're dead. There is something to seeing something in person though, a physical object that is handmade, one of a kind, that's special to me but to very few others it seems. I believe there is something to it that someone's hands were on something, someone with an idea. All logic and reason says Not anymore. But there's something worth pursuing. I don't know what it is or if I'm on the right track.
I wish the people in my family who are gone now wrote something while they were still alive. I would love to know about their life and their perspective, what it was like for them. Even if they would have written they probably wouldn't have said everything, knowing people would see it. But now all that information and their perspective is lost.
I feel like that at every turn nature is trying to teach me things. Time is short. Everything is valid. Go ahead, write, boy. Write about everything. Write about fear. Everything is something or might be something. Even if it's wrong. So what. Write however you wanna write. It doesn't matter. Or it does matter. Matters the most maybe. Everyone's scared and confused. It's okay. Remember what I said though, your time here is short. Write what you wanna write. Say what you wanna say. If you wanna paint, paint. All that will be left down the road is the way in which you lived.
I feel like if people would talk about their experiences or write or make something, it would bring people together. We're limited by time, but we're here, together, aren't we? I feel like expressing our experiences would relieve some of the paranoia and fear of each other. We live in the safest time in history. I wanna grow and stretch, reach into the dark, not be paralyzed by fear.
I wanna make a life from the things I make. I want to show my art work and my writing without fear. Nobody sees there's incredible depth to the paintings. That's okay. I'm not reporting on some bullshit, I'm trying to get to the heart of something. Everything is mine. It's me. It's mine.
Do what you truly love. Be full and be here. Write about everything and love everything and express yourself. Make beautiful pictures and give things meanings as deep as you want them to be, sometimes not deep at all, just on the surface. That's fine. Use colors and textures. Use different materials. Use wood. Crumple paper, make shapes, tactile pictures. Make something people can touch. Art can transform people. It can open up their heads and transform their brains. You've had it happen to you. And it can look cool too. Bonus.
Just imagine if you could touch a painting in a museum. Imagine if you could run your hands over the hands and faces someone painted a thousand years ago, a person like you, a man like you, or a woman, like your mother, a woman your mother's age, and the security guards would sit there and have nothing to say. It could be an intimate experience.
I wanna write from my heart about what I see and feel and what I think is beautiful, and show people things I made that prove I have an eye for beauty. I don't wanna make art and sell it through a gallery. I wanna make art and sell it myself to people who see the value in what I do. I don't wanna quit. There are times when I don't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. It makes no sense to paint a painting anymore, to even pay for paint. The way things are going everything's digital. Digital means instant distribution. I don't know what it is. The whole time I'm like, no one's gonna see this, what are you doing? Nobody goes to galleries anymore. They're dead. There is something to seeing something in person though, a physical object that is handmade, one of a kind, that's special to me but to very few others it seems. I believe there is something to it that someone's hands were on something, someone with an idea. All logic and reason says Not anymore. But there's something worth pursuing. I don't know what it is or if I'm on the right track.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
New Painting: Le Dame Bleu
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| Le Dame Bleu Acrylic on paper 4ft by 3ft Aug 2015 |
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
New blog post: Faith and church and something the pastor said
I know I can write about whatever and should. There are no limits really to what this can be. Not unless I make them and put them myself. I feel like I need to be completely straight and honest. For myself mostly. Maybe it can mess me up for future jobs. I don't care anymore. There's something higher than a job, like where you can get for yourself. I don't know. It seems that way, that you have to just talk. Talk and write. I don't wanna waste time. That job was a waste, but I got a lot done. I spent a lot of time just sitting there though, passing time wondering what was wrong with me because I felt completely out of place than those people, like I was trapped in someone else's body. There are people that understand. Most people I met are different though, don't think the same, can't sympathize, won't encourage you to go do something different. They say things like, "You're lucky to have a job. It's hard out there." And they're right for them but not for me.
I try to make something every day. Sometimes I make music and I put the songs up on youtube. I was thinking about when I'm playing those synths and those bass strings on Garageband and playing a nice melody on top of them how they cue something inside. I remember back when I used to go to a pentacostal church, how they had a band. I was over the pastor's house once and he said something that I never forgot. He said that certain songs were better than others for bringing people down to the front to accept Jesus into their hearts. When I went to those youth group nights they would play songs underneath the pastor talking about God. The kids would cry and would get so hyped up. The band would go into a song with a big emo chorus and people would go down to the front in tears. I remember noticing the parents and older people standing back or consoling the kids down front. It didn't feel right. It felt like a trick. They were using magic (music) to open kids up, to get them to open up to whatever the message was. But music is something different for kids than for adults. Using it like that felt wrong.
I've always felt like musicians were the ones who were who were really telling you what was going on. Everyone else, teachers, parents, everybody else, had to censor themselves. Music had gangster rap. Where was that in life? What did TV have? What did movies have? Nothing close. You never heard the things people would say in music anywhere else. Listening to music while you were walking around it felt like everybody around you was clothed and the people you were listening to were naked.
I suppose even the best music artists manipulate their audience and even milk it a bit. What's the difference between christians doing it to get you to be a christian and non-christians doing it to get you for some other reason? I don't know. It's messy. I always held music up as some kind of holy messaging device not to be messed with. But that's not right. The right thing is to get exposure to music in all its forms and to be able to recognize, hopefully at some point that it's a tool like anything else.
I feel like I need to put my whole heart into something if it'll mean anything. In order to be different you have to literally be different. People around me are fulfilled. They have different priorities. Without writing and without putting my art up in cool places I won't get anywhere for myself. Writing is a big part of it. I can feel it. I have to write more. Something will happenif I keep writing and making things and working hard. I still have some kind of faith in that. I can't explain it. I guess it's just faith again like I used to feel when I went to church.
I try to make something every day. Sometimes I make music and I put the songs up on youtube. I was thinking about when I'm playing those synths and those bass strings on Garageband and playing a nice melody on top of them how they cue something inside. I remember back when I used to go to a pentacostal church, how they had a band. I was over the pastor's house once and he said something that I never forgot. He said that certain songs were better than others for bringing people down to the front to accept Jesus into their hearts. When I went to those youth group nights they would play songs underneath the pastor talking about God. The kids would cry and would get so hyped up. The band would go into a song with a big emo chorus and people would go down to the front in tears. I remember noticing the parents and older people standing back or consoling the kids down front. It didn't feel right. It felt like a trick. They were using magic (music) to open kids up, to get them to open up to whatever the message was. But music is something different for kids than for adults. Using it like that felt wrong.
I've always felt like musicians were the ones who were who were really telling you what was going on. Everyone else, teachers, parents, everybody else, had to censor themselves. Music had gangster rap. Where was that in life? What did TV have? What did movies have? Nothing close. You never heard the things people would say in music anywhere else. Listening to music while you were walking around it felt like everybody around you was clothed and the people you were listening to were naked.
I suppose even the best music artists manipulate their audience and even milk it a bit. What's the difference between christians doing it to get you to be a christian and non-christians doing it to get you for some other reason? I don't know. It's messy. I always held music up as some kind of holy messaging device not to be messed with. But that's not right. The right thing is to get exposure to music in all its forms and to be able to recognize, hopefully at some point that it's a tool like anything else.
I feel like I need to put my whole heart into something if it'll mean anything. In order to be different you have to literally be different. People around me are fulfilled. They have different priorities. Without writing and without putting my art up in cool places I won't get anywhere for myself. Writing is a big part of it. I can feel it. I have to write more. Something will happenif I keep writing and making things and working hard. I still have some kind of faith in that. I can't explain it. I guess it's just faith again like I used to feel when I went to church.
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