Mania

There's a lot of stuff going on in the studio right now. Everything from birch bark to collaborative work to oil paintings. The past month or so has allowed a generous liberation of previously tied down energy. This past week especially has been very fruitful.

It is good!

It is good except for this annoying blood blister that I gave myself while clumsily assembling stretcher bars:

UGH

Nice place to go swimming :)

I wonder if there's a jelly fish hiding down there...

Oooommmm

Lavender of course

Phil on top, me on the bottom

Phil vs. Me

Drawing of me done by Phil

Myself 3 times

Crazy hair inspired by Phil's initial drawing

Birch bark from Walden Pond finding it's new tentative home

Walden birch bark painting in process

Some oils in process

Oil in process

Dark cathartic ugly schizoid self portrait

Happy Valentines Day

I love you.

New Series Developing

Bonus points if you can read the text in the ground of each painting!

I'm So Skinny and Lonely

New painting. This image was taken while it was still drying. It will be done soon(ish).

Creeper's Corner

My photographic skills are lacking but the original resembles a mix of these two images....use your imagination!

The juicy details:

All of these were done with a mix of black ink, sepia ink, water colors, and raw pigments.

Sometimes my own paintings intimidate me...

I've been told that I'm not this ugly in real life.

Recent Poetry

Here are three poems from July starting with the most recent and working backwards. The first poem is a tribute to Rilke's Book of Hours which I recently bought. The book is considered to be one of his greatest works and it consists of love poems written to God inspired by his experience in Russia. So I wrote my own love poem to God including a "Le Petit Prince" reference of the abandoned rose which I painted a few months ago. The second poem is simply a description of the sun rising. And the last poem I will leave open to interpretation.

7/30/10

I am not an abandoned rose.

No,

Not only do I grow,

I walk.

And when I lay

I am still living,

Tingling with life,

Shimmering with love,

Not by that of a man,

But of yours,

Your love that I can own

Only by giving.

Deep within these circles

Spinning becomes stillness

And the graceful harmony

Between us fills every void.

No,

I have not been abandoned.

I have been found.

(detail of the abandoned rose "Tache d'Etre Heureux" painting)

7/29/10

Seven suns are seen

Blue, violet, and white alike

Not all at once

None of them stationary

They carry asymmetry

Consistently

They show expected shape

Yet surprise the eyes

A momentary beauty

Evolving quickly

Growing and burning

We yearn to touch

Their arms who touch us

Both softly and fiercely

7/14/10

Strangeness enters

As quickly as dark clouds descend

Softly and swiftly

Reminding me of the end

That endless bend

which arcs under my skin

Raw emotion is never dead

A memory may be past

But the quality is vivid

He is living

Our somber hours remain still

Real as they ever were

Not moving or silent

Simply blinking

On and off

In and out

Up and down

Fading like a distant dream

And then it's bright again.

Making progress

Things are getting better. I still can't find the patience to paint that foot but I knew that would be a problem from the beginning. Feet are tricky. The symbolism of the painting has changed a lot. I wish that I could provide a better image but this will have to do for now.

creepin...

Just a lonely tree in Somerville.
cathartic gesso dripping in action...

A new poem

This poem is of course a metaphor for something in my life but also a general advice. It has the same theme as the large painting I am working on as well.

The night's sky is dark
Now it's depths are shown
As the mist settles
Wet, on a soft fresh bloom

Still, some stars shine bright
A heavy gloom weighs down
A cold wind instills
Awakening senses

Two poor beings stir
Lively in their struggle
Endure shaking earth
Trembling like their small hearts

No life arises
Until the breaking light
Clouds part quietly
As they wait in a fright

If the Sun rises
Would it not be in vain
What they might enjoy
Before the storm again?

It could not be so
For without deep shadows
Light would have no path
To make glow what's needed