DOTS...DOTS...AND MORE DOTS

Don't even think of asking why! As big John said, sometimes "a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do". In my case, it was being consumed by dots during the wee hours of the morning on the midnight shifts in the ER. That was a long time ago, and I can no longer remember how it began. What I do remember was the delight I experienced every time I came up with a new "application" for the dot.

SOMETIMES I JUST DON'T KNOW

And this is one of those days; I walk around the studio and into the gallery, looking at all the work, and I just don’t know. What am I doing and why am I doing it?

There is no firm ground on which to stand. Just when I think I have found the place, it shifts beneath my feet throwing me off balance. My head tells me...this is the way it is, this is the journey, and the destination is secondary. I know this, and yet. There is always an “and yet”; the heart simply cannot keep up with the head, or is it the other way around? The heart being one or two steps ahead?

I have completed 2 new paintings, and neither has any enthusiasm that shows. Another is in progress, and I am excited about the prospects, and yet...the nagging question...why am I doing this.

Often, writing about something will lead me to an understanding, if not an answer. But I don’t know if that will be the case this morning. I hope so. I really want to find that that center, that place where everything comes together, that spiritual sweet spot.

I cannot stop thinking about David, my parents, Cathy, and all of the gentle people I knew, and all that I never knew. Some have gone before their time, others in their time, and thinking about them makes me sad. I thought I wanted to be happy today, to paint freely with loud music bouncing around the studio. But perhaps I really want to be sad; maybe this is one of those days when we feel the need to quietly wrap ourselves in a soft blanket of melancholy and remember the ones we loved and lost. This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, maybe we have to do this periodically to keep our balance in life.

I Think I will listen to Jerry Orbach, Luciano Pavarotti, Johnny Cash, and john Denver, celebrating their lives, even as I mourn for David, my parents, and Cathy.

Sometimes you just don’t know where writing in a journal will lead you.

THE SKETCH BOOK

In recent days I have been visiting the blogs of other artists, and my efforts have been rewarded with the delightful images from a variety of sketch books. It is always inspiring to see the infinite number of ways each of us views our world, and rewarding when these experiences are so aptly documented.

So, today's post will be about the artist’s sketch book. My transition from medicine to art began in the mid 70’s with a small sketch book I carried with me to a medical conference in Boston, years before I was aware that such a transition was in my future. Walking out of the conference after the first hour, I spent the next 3 days walking the streets of boston and Cambridge, filling me books with drawings of the city streets. This was to be a practice I would continue for many years, and it was to become my lifeline to the world during some rather dark times. Those familiar with my blog will have seen the many drawings and notes I have selected to share.

The sketch books, later just “the books”, were with me almost 24-7. It was my way of training my eyes to see, to learn the craft of drawing. I imposed one rule on myself, I was not allowed to use any instrument other than an ink pen (my faithful Parker 45, alas, no longer available.) or a fine point black marker. I did not want to be tempted to use and eraser: with the pen I was forced to commit myself. I can honestly report that I rarely broke that rule, and when I did it was usually with colored markers. Eventually my books became as much of a journal as a sketchbook.

Years later, as my artistic interests evolved, I became strictly a studio artist, and the books were replaced by larger books in which I recorded small exploratory thumb nail sketches for future paintings. Pencils were now allowed!

I would enjoy hearing from others about their own experiences with the sketch book; do you have “rules” for yourself, do you draw or write every day, what size books do you use,?