The Locust King

The Locust King (in progress), oil on canvas, 2016, Rico

I tend to work in series, and on occasion a series will be centered around a very clear narrative.  Something will spark an idea or an image and I will begin a process of trying to push it from my mind.  If I am unsuccessful, the idea will take hold and root and pester me day in and day out.  I'll go to sleep thinking about it, and I'll wake with it clear in my mind.

I'm currently reading Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See, a masterfully-written novel that takes place in WWII and intertwines several character's perspectives.  Really, really good book and you should read it.  There's a line early on, "the locusts have no king," that jumped off the page at me.  I often keep a notebook next to me when I'm reading and I immediately jotted that line down, thinking I might just use it in full for the title of a painting.

As the days went on, I just found the concept so provocative, and I kept wondering, "what if they did?  What would that be like?"  I worked out some sketches, but I wasn't happy with any of them; the image in my mind's eye was stronger than anything I could get down.  

As with The Forest and the Sea, a story began to form around that idea.  So I sat down and started writing the story to get a better handle on the idea.  Though I've written a considerable part of the narrative already, the whole thing is still hatching.  This painting is the first fruit.  

It's been years since I produced a book of paintings and this, along with the Via Dolorosa paintings for NYC next March, may be my next project.  TBD as to when that actually gets done and whether I will seek out a publisher or self-publish again on Blurb, but the wheels are turning.