Thoughts on Art, Travel and more in between….

… from sprawling jungle to celestial countenance is indeed a long, long way.

This is from Christmas 1998. I was attending a class at the Center for Spiritual Living in Seattle called Spiritual Practice. Towards the conclusion of the class, as it was the holiday season, we were given the opportunity to bring a gift to anonymously share with another. If we could make the gift ourselves, all the better. This piece is what I brought.

Earlier that Spring my family and I had been to Italy. We stayed in a villa for two weeks outside Siena, in another for a week in Venice and then again for another week in Rome. As you may have heard there is quite a lot of memorable art that resides in Italy.  Among the many beautiful works we saw were the following created by Michelangelo: In Florence, the statue of “David”, standing in the Academia. In Rome, that of “Moses”, housed in the church of San Pietro in Vincoli. In St. Peter’s cathedral, “The Pieta”, depicting Mary gazing upon the deceased Jesus after he has been taken down from the cross. Adjacent to St. Peter’s is the Sistine Chapel. One of the more famous images from the massive ceiling painting is the depiction of God bestowing life through his hand to that of the newly created Adam.

The owner of the painting recently returned to this area and had it shipped. As there was potential damage to it, she asked if I could take repossession of it and fix up anything that got harmed. Thankfully, only the frame was broken but not the glass and only superficial smudging of the pastel resulted. This gave me a chance to not only get back into the mindset of some 13 years ago, but also to act as impartial observer. I didn’t really plan this one out. What was going on? What had I intended? It’s been many years and it’s as if I am completely detached. What follows is my interpretation of what I was doing, however unconsciously. It felt then as if I were merely recording the images and arranging them in a way that seemed suitable. No more, no less…

Three images of Michelangelo sculpture surround a crescent earth inside of which lies his depiction of the creation of man. Perhaps this resonates as a study into the evolutionary nature of God; which is actually to say the evolution in human consciousness as to what God might be. Moses, in the upper left, suggests the stern, potentially violent and angry God of the Old Testament. Upholder of rigid law, this was not a deity to be trifled with. Detached, the God of only the chosen, he currently looks away; in black and white symbolizing the increasingly distant concept of God that he represents.

David’s countenance is more gentle and graceful. He represents the revelation of God to man in the person of Jesus. That David/Jesus is portrayed in color signifies the continuing relevance of his message. That he is portrayed looking away only serves notice that he has newly arrived company. A woman, also depicted in color, has joined him. She too emanates compassion and grace. It is she who currently gazes down at earth. Unlike the statue from which she was ‘borrowed’, she looks down not upon death but to an expansion of life. It is from her that the creative arm is currently reaching down to spark a greater revelation of God to man on earth. Some might call her the Goddess, others the Divine Feminine. This is not merely a nod to evolving feminism. Surely God has neither only male attributes nor manifests through men only. Here Mary is the loving female counterpart to the male Jesus. We might pause to recognize the spiritual distance traveled since the God of fear held sway. We might also imagine God being so much more than limited human concepts of either male or female. What representation of Divinity lies ahead that might completely transcend gender? That these images suggest only Western religious ideas not only indicates Michelangelo was Western but that I am as well. What images of Eastern or indigenous art might parallel these? What images might incorporate or embrace more?

Like hands on a clock the revelations of God move from one conception to another one more broad. It is important to remember that the conceptions are our own. They evolve. We evolve; God appears to. What may have been true in one age may be the scaffolding for a greater revelation of truth in another. But neither will each image of God necessarily become irrelevant. I, personally, can’t imagine the supernal Jesusonian idea of loving others as we were loved as ever being outmoded. We can only continue to broaden our minds to a greater conception of the Divine. For some enlightened individuals this process may be accelerated in a lifetime. For the entire human race to grow in consciousness, it may be a seemingly laborious and slow ticking of the celestial clock. It has been said that “Evolution may be slow, but it is terribly effective.” What grander conceptions will be added to what we already are beginning to collectively embrace? And is this really operating like an orderly clock, which would theoretically go full circle and return, figuratively, to 12 midnight? Or are we witnessing what might be the beginning of an ever-widening spiral, growing exponentially? That, too, is a mathematic, artistic and probably Divine pattern of expansion. I suppose it depends on our collective consciousness. Happily, I notice that the light shining on earth at each juncture grows wider and wider.

In all of this it is humans themselves that evolve. Ever the optimist, I believe that we will continue opening our hearts and minds to that which is not only eternal, but to actual living presences of Love, of Grace, of Truth, Beauty and Goodness.

…more qualities of the emerging feminine. Compassion… and the Lugandi word “mirembe” meaning “Peace”…

         Red for her hair, white for the small dog who insisted on being in the picture and blue for the drapery…

Perhaps just one, perhaps symbolizing all of the forms stirring and being birthed in the jungle… the feminine made manifest. Confident. Self-assured. No longer confined and relegated to the shadows. Does she challenge or confront? Not if you possess those same qualities of confidence and self-assurance…

Ta Prohm is one of the hidden gems lurking amidst the vast Angkor jungle. It is the stuff of “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider” or Indiana Jones. At this site, more than most, the jungle has had much success in its reclamation project to obliterate all signs of the once mighty Khmer Empire. As tropical rains are abundant, roots need not travel very far to find moisture. They drape themselves wherever they please easily shoving aside and moving once stout temple walls and fortifications.

When looking at any of the many places at Ta Prohm where the jungle vines and roots have run amok, it is easy to let the mind wander and envision other shapes and forms. Such imaginings are certainly projections from within. The plethora of such visual stimuli ensure that many, many things can be imagined. Ta Prohm is truly an enchanting and fascinating place.

Countless artists before me have discovered the female figure as a desirable subject to draw or paint. That this only happened to me within the past couple of years is a bit astounding, but it did eventually happen nonetheless. I knew that displaying any revealing paintings of the female form might be problematic in a public place and certainly within the confines of a church. Still, I wanted to indicate that this is the arena in which much of my recent attention has been focused.

This was an extremely difficult picture to bring forth. Some questions came up: How obvious to make the forms without being too cheesy and cute? How disguised should they be? In all of that, I wanted the scene to still look like something one might actually see in the jungle confusion. Feeling out of my element most of the way, I worked, struggled, put the picture aside for a time… only to return to it repeatedly. I prodded, pushed and pulled this image along. Always I felt only partially satisfied with it and always would I work it further with what felt like only minimal success. Sometimes it just may be the artist’s lot to feel having fallen short of their intended image.  When trying something new and calling forth images and ideas, it was a wander through an inner jungle.

     … through the Angkor gate to the jungle inside. It is alive and active with creation. Roots snake themselves along the ground, descending here, emerging there. Something stirs, contorts and writhes, willing itself into existence. Amidst ruins, rebirth. Is it visible form? Or unseen Principle? In this forgotten corner of the world, as in all the universe, creation is continually yearning to emerge, express, step forth and ultimately dance….

 This scene here is but a small part of the incredibly vast site of ruins at Angkor in Cambodia. We tend to think of Angkor Wat as consisting of merely the large temple with its variety of beehive like spires laying behind a wall and surrounded by a moat hiding in the jungle. As large as that complex is, the complete Angkor site is much more than that. It spreads out over 350 square miles and involves a thousand temple structures. All remnants of the ancient Khmer Empire, they lay in wait to be discovered like hidden gems.

Larger than Angkor Wat proper is the nearby Angkor Thom complex. It, too, is surrounded by a moat, albeit a much larger one. Inside are many sets of ruins including the Bayon and the Baphuon, to name but two. These are elaborate, eerie and strange. Many of the towers depict the facial image of King Jayavarman VII. And so it is with the South Gate of Angkor Thom, depicted here. Good King Jayavarman looks at us above the entrance, and appears in profile twice as he simultaneously gazes toward the east and the west.

As with most compositions, there were structural issues to contend with. The “rails” of the bridge consist of many men holding up the body of a cobra and instead of the usual hooded head rising up we have a seven headed serpent to greet us. Each of these is in various stages of ruin. It would have been easy enough to focus attention here but I chose to lead the viewer’s eye on to the causeway and towards the gate. Ergo I minimized the cobra on the left more than what it really is or deserves. I also spent more time painting detail on the gate and accentuating the contrast of light and dark more there to draw the eye to it.

As this is the most well travelled of the four gates to the Thom complex, it seemed appropriate to add a “tuk-tuk” (a local taxi cab) and a motorbike to accentuate the movement to the gate.

With an eye to the Golden Ratio, I placed the gate approximate to the classical “eye” position, the origin of the logarithmic spiral

“So now I dream that something’s coming, it’s not just in the wind…”

 Harry’s words are, perhaps, prophetic. “Something” may be coming, or it might lie behind the unusual gate. The road leads this way. The expression on the face of the good king gives little away- but neither does it threaten. What might we find as we journey into the primordial jungle mystery within?

“Remember when the music

Came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire

And as we sang the words

It would set our hearts on fire,

To believe in things

And so we’d sing

Remember when the music

Brought us all together to stand inside the rain

And as we joined our hands

We’d meet in the refrain,

For we had dreams to live 

And hopes to give…”

        This piece is the linchpin for the whole show. I’m hopeful I can explain why. If not, I know someone who can and who helped inspire it.

        In 1987 there was a tribute concert for the late Harry Chapin in  Carnegie Hall.  It was on the occasion of what would have been his 45^th birthday and the reception of the Congressional Gold Medal. Various artists performed a selection of Harry’s songs. Bruce Springsteen sang “Remember When the Music” and spoke poignantly before and during the song about Harry.

Before you read any further here, follow the link below and have a look and listen. It will make this task infinitely easier. It’s only 7 minutes long. Off you go… I promise to be here when you return….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9dbZDyRNs4

         Welcome back….

Harry Chapin wrote this song upon the assassinations of Congressman, political activist and friend Al Lowenstein and the subsequent death of John Lennon. Both occurred in 1980. For Harry Chapin the song is a remembrance of when change was actually afoot and seemed within reach; when people joined together to not so much sing but to rally for and champion issues of fairness greater than themselves. Harry always walked the walk himself as he focused on combating hunger in America and playing countless benefit concerts that supported a variety of causes.

        This painting shows Harry Chapin playing music, “for him and the other guy”. Were someone to ask me the definition of absolute commitment to and doing what they should, I would refer them here. Would that we all could find our life’s calling that not only fills us but also blesses others.

The image I chose of John Lennon as a complement is from mid-1965 when the Beatles, to my way of thinking, were at the height of their powers. (“Help”, “Rubber Soul” and “Revolver” on the way…) Such opinions are up for endless discussion. But there can be little doubt of John Lennon’s talent and passion used to further a more just world. I painted him in black and white, as that is the way most of us were introduced to him and his mates, before color TV. And as the sixties aren’t getting any closer, it seemed appropriate to so depict the distance between then and now.

Baby Boomers endlessly look back and romanticize their youth and the upheaval and turmoil that were the sixties. For my part, I often look back and am prone to fond remembrance of what transpired in my earlier life and times, times that grow more remote and increasingly difficult to discern clearly.

Were those times better? Should we consistently look back remembering the “better days”, whatever that means to us? To do so persistently may be perilous. The fact is that they weren’t necessarily “better”, if any judgement can be rendered at all.

But Harry’s song, Bruce’s interpretation and this painting aren’t about looking back so much as they are about looking ahead. From where we are now. As Bruce Springsteen concludes:

“… so in keeping his promise to himself, he reminds us of our promise to ourselves. And that tonight, alongside Harry is that promise that his spirit would have us remember, and honor and recommit to…”

“So, do something… and may his song be sung…”

All we ultimately have is the present moment. I ask myself, “What is mine to do?” These days, I do a variety of things in addition to being an artist. In each and every activity there wells up the irresistible urge and urgency to do more, to make a difference, to bring forth more good.  Procrastination is no longer viable. How might I bring forth the divine qualities of Truth, of Beauty, of Goodness?

“So now I dream that something’s coming, it’s not just in the wind.

It’s more than just tomorrow; It’s more than where we’ve been.

It offers us a promise, it’s telling us: “Begin”,

I know we’re needing something worth believing in.”

The remainder of this show is dedicated to the Passion and Joy reflected in Harry Chapin doing exactly what he should be doing. It honors the good he spread so far and wide. It is dedicated to the Wit, Intelligence and Resolve that John Lennon brought to the Beatles and to the world. It is dedicated to my search right here “for something worth believing in”. That process evolves with each successive painting. I’m going where the trail takes me. With Harry’s lyrics as a guide, I intend to be much more clear on something worth believing in. Something that transcends any decade. Something that lasts. In the medium of the art now hanging there and in the writing here… May his song be sung…

On to deeper things, literally and figuratively.

It was only a few years ago that I gave myself permission to do pieces I wanted to do, instead of strictly what I was being asked and paid to do. This is one of the first of those and gave me an opportunity to play with some techniques I had recently learned. The Grand Canyon offers unlimited opportunities to explore shapes and light. So I thought, “Why not make my contribution to the legions of paintings of this magical place…”

I started with a charcoal drawing which was then fixed, the vestiges of which can be seen in the lower left and right corners. To all other areas of the picture I added thin glazes of paint, proceeding from the darkest areas to the lighter and lighter ones. It was fun playing with deep purples and slightly lighter lavenders in the darker regions of the canyon.

The picture is actually split in half, so there was a skyscape to do as well. I found doing light puffy clouds challenging, as these look a bit heavy. No matter. As I worked on them I couldn’t help but see various heart shapes throughout. For a time since 2006 when I completed it, I titled this “Rising Hearts”. I imagined the heart shapes of the clouds emerging from the depths of the canyon and mirroring the canyon in a way. Eventually unsatisfied with that title, I chose “As Below, So Above”. Not intending to be overly deep or mystical, I was merely attempting to flip-flop the usual, “as above, so below”.

I had two intentions for its inclusion. The first: I still like it. The older a piece is, the less likely I am to feel this way. The second: For this showing it signifies a transition; the relics of the past are in. Now its time to add some depth with greater meanings and intentions in all the succeeding pieces…

A couple of things here. This isn’t the piece that’s actually in the show. And, I made up the name “Dixie”. I’m betting that someone, somewhere has a horse so named and that such a name isn’t too far off for an equine such as this. Not owning a horse, I wouldn’t have the first clue what to name it. “Dixie” beat out “Paint”, “Scout”, “Trigger” and “Mr. Ed”. And all the other names, apparently.

The reason this image is different is because I neglected to photograph the real one. So I had this one lying around and decided to use it. The angle of the horse and the direction it is looking is similar to the CSL version. I figure no one would have noticed anyway. I’m an honest guy. I just couldn’t live with the lie any longer…

The CSL one is better. Until I remove the glass and get a decent photo with no reflection, this one will have to do.
Care to name it?

This concludes the introduction and “greatest hits” section. Now on to some cooler stuff….

 This is a continuation of the “greatest hits” portion of the show that we temporarily left for a second with “The Pig and Boot”. Over many years, I’ve drawn hundreds and hundreds of dogs for their owners. Said owners have all been very wary and worried lest I not get that certain special look their critter has. For whatever reason, this has proven to be very easy when drawing animals. I guess we’re that much more discerning when evaluating human likenesses versus animal ones. I can’t remember an unhappy client with a pet unless the photo I worked from was lousy to begin with…

This is a pastel of a chocolate lab- whose origins I can’t remember specifically. I must have done one for the client and asked if I could do one for me. (They must have said “yes”.) From 2003 when I did it until 2006 I used it as a display piece to suggest that this artist does indeed draw or paint animals. I’m still willing to show it here, which isn’t true for most things I drew that long ago. And I’m still willing to attach to it a fanciful title that it never really had. (Suggestion to pet owners: it’s not a good idea to dip your beloved animal in chocolate or other substance.) (To animal rights activists: this dog was never, in fact, dipped in anything; nor would I ever consider it.)

... I mean, that’s what it looks like to me. The pig is the one on the left. That leaves the boot on the right.

This picture is laced with deep levels of meaning and symbolism that few can begin to grasp. Or not. It actually came out of a workshop I teach/facilitate at CSL periodically.  I believe that many spiritual principles and drawing principles are interchangeable. The day-long workshop focuses on this and once explored, students then spend time drawing a still life. When hearing “still life” most people think of fruit or wine bottles. I just bring in whatever objects are around that have different shapes or textures. Ergo, the pig(gy bank) and the boot. And a variety of other things. During the latest edition of this workshop in January I became intrigued with these two objects, though they were surrounded by a variety of other things. As we were using graphite in the workshop, I used it again when I recreated this in the studio. Lots of fun to do…                It was done on an 18 x 24 sheet but in truth occupies a 16 x 20 space.

In truth, no discernible symbolism here. (Perhaps the recalcitrant pig needs a swift kick in its ample rear.) Just a rare whimsical drawing.

But wait! Correctly guess how much change is in the piggy and win a valuable prize!! Hint: this pig holds more than you think….