empire state of mind
oil on canvas, 24" x 24"
Rico, 2011
two if by sea
of four o'clocks yet to come, oil on canvas, 24" x 24", Rico 9/18/11
Two shots tonight. Titles are something I generally go in and think about later. I've found that if I choose my titles randomly from good sources they tend to hit the mark. Honestly I get most of my titles from poetry, because poetry is the closest verbal language gets to visual language. There are times I have some specific idea, but I've found that dictating what people are supposed to think about a work only limits the work itself. Were I to title my paintings with half the political messages and opinions I sometimes want to, I would have no audience.
as yet untitled, oil on canvas, 24" x 24" , Rico 9/16/11
Tonight I had to come in and look. It's early; I may yet paint, I may not. There are times I have see the work again to know what it is. It a difficult thing to look at something you've been working on for weeks or months with fresh eyes, but that is exactly what you have to do.
I desperately need a proper vacation. I had to cancel my rock'n roll adventure with the CRB, and so went my best chance for a getaway for the year. As I'm typing this, there are ten canvases behind me wanting to come out of the last box. The vacation will have to wait.
remain in light
Picture and lighting woes tonight, but no matter. The studio time is becoming more concentrated as my wife's rehearsal season begins. I'm in here fewer nights a week, but the time is imbued with urgency and focus. My need for proper lighting is becoming acute as I break into the final case of canvases. The night is still and windless and there is a quiet that is oddly comforting. This work suffers in photo translation, but these blog posts are, and have always meant to be shorthand.
I'm waiting for the last half dozen or so to dry, there is little else I can do. I'll begin the final ten in the coming evenings, and then it is time to continue with the journey. My former professor hooked me up with with Prussian blue on Sunday morning; a life-saving act that facilitated one of the best of the series so far. Things are shifting, yet there is a cohesion to this body of work that is notable, -especially given the number of paintings. It truly feels as though I have found my voice.
My Proust Interview
1. What do
you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Fear and ignorance.
2. Where
would you like to live?
In a Palladian.
3. What is
your idea of earthly happiness?
Doing what I love, surrounded by those I love.
4. Who are
your favorite heroes of fiction?
The Count of Monte Cristo, Siddhartha, Ellen
Ripley
5. The
quality you most admire in a man?
Integrity
6. The
quality you most admire in a woman?
Discretion
7. Your
favorite virtue?
Temperance.
8. Your
favorite occupation?
My own.
9. Who
would you have liked to be?
Picasso, but only for a while.
10. Your
most marked characteristic?
Tenacity.
11. What do
you most value in your friends?
Their hearts and their intellects.
12. What is
your principle defect?
Pride.
13. What to
your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
The death of my children.
14. What
would you like to be?
More of who I am.
15. In what
country would you like to live?
Spain.
16. What is
your favorite color?
Every color.
I love possibility.
17. What is
your favorite flower?
Black eyed Susan
18. What is
your favorite bird?
The phoenix.
19. Who are
your favorite poets?
O’hara, Lorca, Sexton
20. Who are
your favorite painters?
JMW Turner, Mark Rothko, Matisse, Miquel Barcelo, Velazquez, Caravaggio
21. What is
it you most dislike?
Belligerent ignorance.
22. What
natural gift would you most like to possess?
Charm.
23. How
would you like to die?
Gracefully.
24. What is
your present state of mind?
Peacefully determined.
25. What is
your motto?
“Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and chaotic in your work.”
a rare dedication
september 11, 2011 (for JAM); oil on canvas; 24" x 24"; Rico 2011
About two years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting a fellow painter while visiting NYC. During that time I've watched his work make a quantum leap, seen him get some important residencies, and some measure of success come his way. I have little doubt of his future success. He's one of the people I look most forward to seeing again when I go up next month, and I hope we can take our acquaintance to friendship in time. Last year, I also learned that he was a first-responder ten years ago today. As I learned his story, his work took on new resonance, and my own perceptions and opinions of the events of that day shifted. There will be a lot of chatter today; the news media is having a field day and I don't want to add to the noise. But it is good to remember the examples of humanity in the face of monstrosity, and to put faces and names with many unsung individuals who had courage and compassion then, and who live with love instead of bitterness and ideology now. James, this one's for you.
the woodshed
Leave it to an old musician friend to lay down a story that motivates me and pushes me into positivity. I started this year off consciously locking myself in the studio to work without concern for shows. I set a goal, and I will hit it. At times I feel an incredible sense of isolation and longing for my own kind, so to speak. But I've come here and I've done the work despite +100 degree temperatures, fiscal challenges and the pressures of familial responsibilities. I love what I do. I was at the cigar bar earlier this week to restock my humidor and one of the guys asked if I was staying for a drink. I said no, I had to go to work. He said, "sorry man," and I just laughed. I told him work was the studio and aside from loving what I do, I could smoke cigars on the job. What a life.
The story my friend hipped me to is about Charlie Parker, Bird. Seems he locked himself away for two years in a woodshed in the Ozarks and perfected his chops, then, when he knew the work was ready went to New York and changed jazz forever.
I've worked without distraction for years now. In a sense I've been on a private artist's retreat for close to five years, just doing the work and not worrying about scenes or the pressures of people asking for more. But in these years I've also pushed myself continuously. Somewhere along the way, I found my licks. Now it is time to take it to the City and find someone and make them understand so that they in turn can make others understand.
Somewhere in the last few weeks I had that moment where I looked at the work on the painting wall and I just knew. It's there. I think you just know it, and I'm not sure how to tell you I know. Every painting in here is not brilliant. But consistently they are damn good, and a few are something truly without comparison.
The 50 was always an open-ended project. In truth, I never saw it ending, even with canvas number 50. I always knew at about number 40 I would need to re-stock, re-load and push on through. But I never anticipated where the work has gone. Now I know the work is ready. Now it is time to bring it.
The story my friend hipped me to is about Charlie Parker, Bird. Seems he locked himself away for two years in a woodshed in the Ozarks and perfected his chops, then, when he knew the work was ready went to New York and changed jazz forever.
I've worked without distraction for years now. In a sense I've been on a private artist's retreat for close to five years, just doing the work and not worrying about scenes or the pressures of people asking for more. But in these years I've also pushed myself continuously. Somewhere along the way, I found my licks. Now it is time to take it to the City and find someone and make them understand so that they in turn can make others understand.
Somewhere in the last few weeks I had that moment where I looked at the work on the painting wall and I just knew. It's there. I think you just know it, and I'm not sure how to tell you I know. Every painting in here is not brilliant. But consistently they are damn good, and a few are something truly without comparison.
The 50 was always an open-ended project. In truth, I never saw it ending, even with canvas number 50. I always knew at about number 40 I would need to re-stock, re-load and push on through. But I never anticipated where the work has gone. Now I know the work is ready. Now it is time to bring it.
Day 202, Canvas 40
Frustrating night tonight. I got here later than usual and despite the wonderful pre-Fall air, I couldn't find my groove. It happens. I try to work through it, sit, look, see, go back in. Sometimes it isn't there and that's just all there is. I still worked, I laid some good paint.
No pics tonight, nothing looks anywhere close to what I attempted to document. Tonight I wish I were near civilization with its distractions.
I'm tired and Doubt is attempting to give me a lecture, so it's time to call this night and let fresh eyes come in here tomorrow.
anatomy of a painting: a glimpse into process
We'll subtitle this one "six months in the life". This is pretty much how I've been working this year. I don't think there is a single, fully-realized canvas from this body of work that took less than 2 months. I am in a good place overall, though today was awkward for some reason. Perhaps I'm not used to painting in daylight! In case you do not understand from the title of this post, all the photos below are the same painting as it went through its evolution. Enjoy.
March 29th
April 22nd
April 25th
May 5th
May 6th
May 7th
May 21st
May 23rd
May 28th
August 13th
August 30th
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