The path of doubt and relentless self-questioning is the road to light. Perfection is an illusion perpetuated by those who profit from having the masses chase unattainable desires. Desire is the path to anger and pain. Capitalism must create desire in order to feed itself.
I believe ambition can be healthy. I differentiate goals from desire because more often the journey to one's goal is far more satisfying than the attainment of one's desires. That is why millionaires try to become billionaires; having is never as satisfying as getting there.
The day job is in a state of acute crisis. Finding grace and resolve in the midst of tumultuous freak-out and widely-held frustration and pressure is, to my mind, the mark of a man. (see Kipling's "If"). I devote my energies to many things, often at once, and this crisis will pass because I will resolve it. I have come to understand that no problem is unsolvable; there is a spectrum of potential solutions to any situation that runs from the completely undesirable to the absolutely desirable, and finding the point on that line is simply what I get paid to do. I have always worked to learn before working to earn. Every job I've ever had (and I've had quite a few) has held a lesson within its experience. This one has taught me to deny the impossible. I've become fearless in the face of unraveling chaos, and in the end this has made me a better artist, a better father, and a better man.
Arjuna has been a difficult painting. Not because the process was any different; it wasn't. It has been difficult because I had to destroy a good painting to get to it. That moment of destruction was fraught with anxiety and doubt, but equally a sense of absolute liberation from expectation and comfort. I divested myself from self-assurance and anticipation. Painting is best when it's blind; I love uncertainty.
A friend of mine painted a painting called The Way of Hardship. It's a terrific and powerful painting, one might even say sublime, and I've sat in front of it many times. I've come to think that it is a visual representation of the artist's Way, and I mean specifically the painter. We tend to seek out resistance more than other artists (except maybe writers, but that's another post). The path of most resistance can be destructive. But it can also be a path to enlightenment, if only fleeting, which most enlightenment is anyway.
The work right now is about doubt and struggle and choosing paths from divergent options. This theme seems to be recurring throughout the past 20 months or so. I'm embroiled in a struggle to find something, though that "thing" is elusive.
I believe ambition can be healthy. I differentiate goals from desire because more often the journey to one's goal is far more satisfying than the attainment of one's desires. That is why millionaires try to become billionaires; having is never as satisfying as getting there.
The day job is in a state of acute crisis. Finding grace and resolve in the midst of tumultuous freak-out and widely-held frustration and pressure is, to my mind, the mark of a man. (see Kipling's "If"). I devote my energies to many things, often at once, and this crisis will pass because I will resolve it. I have come to understand that no problem is unsolvable; there is a spectrum of potential solutions to any situation that runs from the completely undesirable to the absolutely desirable, and finding the point on that line is simply what I get paid to do. I have always worked to learn before working to earn. Every job I've ever had (and I've had quite a few) has held a lesson within its experience. This one has taught me to deny the impossible. I've become fearless in the face of unraveling chaos, and in the end this has made me a better artist, a better father, and a better man.
Arjuna has been a difficult painting. Not because the process was any different; it wasn't. It has been difficult because I had to destroy a good painting to get to it. That moment of destruction was fraught with anxiety and doubt, but equally a sense of absolute liberation from expectation and comfort. I divested myself from self-assurance and anticipation. Painting is best when it's blind; I love uncertainty.
A friend of mine painted a painting called The Way of Hardship. It's a terrific and powerful painting, one might even say sublime, and I've sat in front of it many times. I've come to think that it is a visual representation of the artist's Way, and I mean specifically the painter. We tend to seek out resistance more than other artists (except maybe writers, but that's another post). The path of most resistance can be destructive. But it can also be a path to enlightenment, if only fleeting, which most enlightenment is anyway.
The work right now is about doubt and struggle and choosing paths from divergent options. This theme seems to be recurring throughout the past 20 months or so. I'm embroiled in a struggle to find something, though that "thing" is elusive.
