Dark Deja Vu

August 14, 2007 ... I received an email from my son Michael.

....Yes, a steak sounds great. I have to warn you though I am not as handsome as yesterday. Last night some kids tried to steal my sunglasses and I told them to f... off. They followed me off the tram. Three vs one. They had a knife. So I took some punches and a head butt to the face. I am ok but I have a black eye ... opoooppps haha it's terrible, almost a flawless summer. I am in good spirits. it was just bull...t.

Sun 19AUG DELTA 141 SA J LV BRUSSELS 1120A L ** AR NYC-KENNEDY 135P BUSINESS

love,
mike

.......

I'm thankful for the technology that permits instant correspondence across the ocean. Within twenty-four hours I was assured that the knife had not come into contact with my son's body and that nothing had been taken from him. He suffered a black eye, a serious cut above the eye, and a battered nose. He told me that when he exited the tram and the three guys followed him, he experienced a vivid Deja Vu of having gotten off at the same stop and being murdered. He consciously decided to alter the end result in his current reality. Fortunately he succeeded.

Back in my studio, I knew better than to work on any of the paintings that were already in progress. Though I had been as positive and supportive as possible in my emails to Mike, I knew I was not holding up well internally. I tacked two fresh pieces of kraft paper on the wall and let myself fall apart, thinking of all the possible scenarios that did not have the happy ending of seeing my son walk toward me at the airport in five more days.

My goal was to paint through the experience, expressing it, allowing it to express itself, and ultimately to grow from it, finding a greater strength from having stepped out of a safety zone where you think you can count on your children being healthy, happy and safe.

At the end of the first day of painting, I wiped the paper clean with turpentine. Ghost images remained and were the foundation of the final painting. I felt not a stroke had been wasted or unnecessary in spite of the fact that I eliminated all of them at the end of the painting session. Each stroke relieved a bit of anguish, a bit of anger, a bit of fear, a bit of frustration, a bit of worry until I was empty of those emotions and I could start to build again from the heat of the love I have for my son and the relief of knowing his heart still beats in a whole, healthy body.

Knowing When to Stop

Hera Grows Suspicious ..... again and Rhapsody illustrate the dilemma of my diversity as an artist. I had grown weary of painting headless, handless, footless, naked, female torsos. The head, hands and feet are expressive elements of a figure's body language. I wanted more content in my painting. I want to express a greater depth of content both visually and spiritually. Depicting universal archetypes satisfies part of that desire.

Hera began as a practice study of a female head, using a photograph I took of my daughter, Nicole, as reference. A simple pencil sketch was followed by watercolor washes. Charcoal redefined the features, followed by more clarification with watercolor and gouache. I had achieved a well formed head that resembled my daughter. It captured her features, but not her personality or spirit. A few irrational marks with pastel brought the painting to life, the character taking on a personality of her own, not Nicole's. I carried it a bit further with a few more illogical lines, letting the artist within me direct my marks and decide when to stop. The artist within is emphatic about when a painting is resolved and I am obedient.

Rhapsody began in my usual manner of painting which is to throw splats and splotches of paint onto paper, allowing the layers to dry between throws. When an image begins to emerge, I begin to clarify the vision and tune into the energy of the marks. Sometimes other figures emerge. Rhapsody, no matter how long I worked on it, would never have evolved into the depiction of an archetype, would never have the depth of personality that Hera has. Instead it expresses another side of my spirit, a more whimsical world of illusion, fantasy and imagination. As with Hera, my inner artist nudged me to stop and I obeyed.

Communicating With Fewer Brush Strokes

I study anatomy in order to paint the movement of a figure with as few strokes as possible. It is not that I don't enjoy painting more complex works of art, it is that I value the power of a single stroke that carries a message of something as complex as a figure expressing emotion and mood through body posture and movement. Though I love thick novels I admire the well-crafted short short story, the one that is only a page long, even more.

Images:
A Dance for Dionysus - Watercolor and Oil on Canvas
Samira Belly Dancing at Easton Yoga - Watercolor

Letting Inspiration Brew

One of the wonderful aspects of aging is that enough time has passed to reveal both consistency and inconsistency in my work over time. The hints of what was yet to come are often more than subtle in my earlier work, but unrecognizable due to the simple fact that I hadn't yet lived long enough and painted enough paintings for the inspirations to develop.

Beneath the Folds is a recent painting. The media is watercolor, gouache and pastel. The composition is based on a self-portrait, a photograph I took of myself in 1975 when I spent at least half my time in a darkroom printing black and white photographs on Portriga paper. I snapped the photo one evening after having dressed for slumber. Earlier that week I found a fantastic robe in a second-hand shop. Never having been a huge fan of paisley, I was surprised that I was drawn to the pattern of the robe. Most of all, I loved the style. It zipped up the front, snuggly fitting my upper torso and flaring out below the waist. I couldn't help but swirl and dance every time I zipped it up. I felt like Ginger Rogers and Greta Garbo rolled into one.

For over thirty years it had been in the back of my mind to explore the possibilities of the image in a painting. Each time I thought to try, I knew I would get too caught up in the details of the patterns and loose the energy I wanted to express. Now that my style of painting and the language of my marks has matured, I could take on my challenge with joy.

Going public

Writing in a private journal helps to focus my thoughts and to clarify the direction I might be heading in as an artist. Sitting across a table with a dear friend, sipping Portuguese coffee and sharing personal struggles as artists can unearth new issues and bring to light both strengths and weaknesses allowing for healthy growth. To push the 'publish' button on a blog posting feels like casting my thoughts, opinions and personal purpose in a hundred foot bronze form placed in the center of Times Square at rush hour. It is owning up to where I've been, where I am and where I want to be going as an artist and as a person.

My work is diverse. I am told that is a problem. The diversity is a result of my curiosity, my need for new experiences and my aversion to repetition that might lead to boredom and paintings without energy, a painting as an object rather than the result of an experience, the experience of painting. I will continue to be diverse. I want to experience as much as I can before my curtain falls.

Image: Rebellion in the Haren . Watercolor