I feel a story coming on…..
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story can make all the difference, they say, and I like to tell stories.
I love to paint.
My life story is too long, so I will tell it to you in little stories instead,
about small and large things.
I ponder Paintings in the Shadows…
and Paintings in the Dark…
and sometimes find my way through the forests glinting light …
BISCUIT
4 x 4
Oil on Pine Wood
Running in between cars, down the street out of sight; but, in the rearview mirror, on that two lane highway, there she was again. We looked at each other. One three point turn, after posters and investigation, I had a new dog that I hadn’t been looking for. “Get in the car, Biscuit” my daughter said. I should have know when she named her.
MAYBE THE 100th
5 x 7
Oil on Canvas Board
I love this primate. I had his photo lying around for years. I make a lot of paintings during painting demonstrations for students. I preach Intelligence, interest, technique, meaningful connection. I like to tell the story of the hundredth monkey theory. when the 1o0th monkey uses a tool, a rock or whatever, all of the monkeys begin using the tool. Much like artist they are. we spread the knowledge of arts secrets a few people at time. I love them, the monkeys and the students. Of course, I know it would rip my face off, the monkey, not the student. this does not make them less intelligent or less lovable…
BLUE
9 x 12
Acrylic on Paper
One of many self portraits. I have so many and I paint a lot, but I also have a lot of ridiculous photos of myself as well. I always say “Self, I am not interested in selfies”, but I find that to be a lie. I am fascinated, possibly horrified by the subtle nuances I see over the years. It is quite surprising, actually, how much I change, how much we all change.
The Glass Bearer
7 x 9
Oil on Canvas
Ravens and Crows fascinate me. Left over from the dinosaur era, these birds have lengthy memories. If you offend one of their own, they will pass it on for generations. Their grandpa’s grandpa will hate you, as well as their future children and grandchildren. Most relatable, they stash stuff in and under other stuff, and forget where they put it. Hey, me too!
I had a show recently. The walls were thick cement because it was in what used to be an old bank in downtown San Bernardino. To calm my mind before shows I quietly meditate to see what I can see. I saw a raven standing on the floor next to my picture holding broken glassing in its beak. I had to hang the paintings with a heavy sticky tape because at no point would I be able to drill holes in the cement, so I was already worried.
I went to the gallery early to finish setting up. The painting was still on the wall. I was half relieved, half surprised. All afternoon I was there, and then I went to get a boba and some tacos before the opening. When I came back there was glass on the floor and the frame was broken. I had to stick tac the painting up on the wall with no frame.
I love this bird. I should have brought the frame that I forgot to pick up on the way out the door.
PEOPLE MATTER
My heart was sad for humanity. The rioting and the killing. I felt like these people deserved to be remembered. During that time, there were many that might be forgotten, but maybe these few memories will spur us to remember how people rose up around the world to make this sadness turn into change.
BIRD AND BUBBLES
One day I asked my student if she wanted to learn to paint a bird. I'd saved an amazing photo for years, so we painted a bird. The next day I asked her if she wanted to learn to paint bubbles. We did that too. The next day my granddaughter came to my house. She was there no more than thirty seconds and found some bubbles and was blowing them in the house. I was like maybe outside in the backyard, so I don't slip and break my neck. Five minutes later she came back in.
Grandma, there's a dead bird out there.
What color, I asked her.
She said blue.
So we went out to look at it.
I asked her what was all over it.
She said bubbles.
What made you do that?
She said she didn't know why.
We stood quietly with the bird.
It was sad in any case.
The next week, or maybe two weeks later, my friend and I went to a show at Blum & Poe Art Gallery. There was the photo and a book of the same bird that I painted. His bird. The author was there. I told him about the paintings and the bird and the bubbles. He gave me a print. He captures the birds in a net and puts bands on their ankle, technically a tarsus, then photographs them and sets them free. It scares them but this helps keep species alive. I believe in signs. I'm not sure what that sign is but I'll keep my spider senses on point. We know the future, possibly. Maybe we are like Merlin, living backwards and all.