RESTLESS

I simply cannot stay still.  There is nothing in me that is willing to remain in one place for any stretch of time, my feet and legs, my mind, my attention span, everything wants to get up and go.  Go where?  It doesn’t matter, anywhere but here.

If I’m sitting if front of the TV, my fingers are constantly strumming on the arm of the chair; at out kitchen counter my feet and legs are bouncing on the footrest, each of these activities create just enough noise to drive my dear wife crazy.  I’m at my very best when on the cell phone.  In the kitchen I walk around the center island, continuously, without stopping for the entire call.  In the studio I will walk the length of the studio-gallery, back and forth, sometimes actually interfering with the call’s signal.  I don’t know why I do this; it is entirely unconscious.  I’m inclined to believe it is related to some pre-natal event in my mother’s life.

I like to read.  There are piles of books of all kinds all around my study, studio, and beside table.  There has to be, because I rarely read more than 5 or 6 pages at any one time.  If I’m reading a mystery/thriller as soon as something critical or dangerous is about to happen I close the book and pick up another one.  Later I will return to the first book and continue reading, only to repeat the cycle again and again.

                       

It’s the same with my art.  I almost never complete a painting from start to finish in one sitting.  Small 5x7 watercolors or drawings are the exception.  I will work on a painting one small stage at a time, taking frequent, totally unnecessary breaks, usually to spend another brief period of time on a book or two that I’m reading.  This is why I like to have more than one piece of work in progress at the same time, frequently in different mediums.  Then when I move from one to another I can feel productive and ambitious and not neurotic and spastic.

              

 Of course this makes for a rather schizophrenic studio, with work stations  constantly evolving and moving; to counter this I’ve turned to the rolling cart.  I now have four of them, each holding a different medium, and easily moved about to accommodate my own moving about.

I would love to finish this post but I gotta go…really.

I AM WHAT I AM…part 2

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Just when you think you’ve turned a corner, and are about to leave behind a habit that has become increasingly burdensome in recent years, something happens to pull you back in.  In my case it was our hot water heater.  Or, more accurately, our broken hot water heater that eventually caused my relapse.  An explanation is in order.

Last evening, while enjoying the cheese tray. Josh’s black bean and cheddar bread and Kirchhoff’s dipping oil, along with the delightful company of our dinner guests, I heard water running in the dog room (just off the kitchen).  Thinking that Patience forgot to turn off the faucet after washing the dog dishes I went in to do just that, and nearly fell on my ass slipping on the water covered floor.  To by great consternation – that is a wonderful word, consternation, love the way it sounds- I saw the water gushing out of the hot water heater from a crack about waist high.  Mumbling “oh shucks”, or something like that, I quickly figured out how to turn off the water, and then cut the circuit breaker.  Being an accomplished homeowner I can say things like “cut the circuit breaker” and “turn off the water”.  Patience just reminded me that she pointed out to me where the cutoff valve was, and later suggested that the electric power also be cut off.  I went to the circuit breaker and saw HW heater and turned to my wife with a questioning look…she said yes dear, ”that is the one”.  

What does this have to do with my burdensome habit?  I’m getting there; I’m getting there.  It is important to set the stage, so to speak.

Undeterred by the wetness, we went on to enjoy a wonderful evening sharing food and wine with friends, piled all the dishes and stuff in the sink, and went to bed, confident that it would all be there, waiting for us in the morning.  And it was.  After breakfast using paper plates and cups, the tiger in me took over.  I carried everything that needed to be washed across the breezeway into the studio, to be washed in the studio sink (a different hot water heater).  Now we get to the heart of this narrative.

I’m a pack rat.  One look around my studio will confirm that.  Several years ago I stopped using a desktop file rack to display greeting cards, but simply could not discard the well-designed and perfectly functional rack.  Last year we replaced our kitchen sink dish and silverware drain, and once again, I could not throw out the well-constructed silverware basket; surely it would be useful somewhere, sometime.

Last night was the time…for both accessories.  Could I have washed the dishes without using these remarkable aids?  Of course, but it would not have given me the same degree of satisfaction and affirmation.  Just look at these photos.

How will I ever be able to throw something away after this?  I am what I am.

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD(S)

 

There are many reasons why I love the work that has come to define my life, the ability to design my own day, the mixture of solitude and social interactions it provides, the freedom to choose not to work when the spirit moves me, and high on this list…the ability to move from one task or project to another at the slightest whim.

For most of the second half of last year my efforts were directed to working with acrylics on canvas and panels; these imagined landscapes varied in size from 8x10 inches to 36x48 inches.    This year, exercising my prerogatives as CEO, President, and Chairman of the board at Gallery 5, I am devoting most of my attention to works on paper – primarily creating the art for my Paducah project, as well fulfilling several commissions.  So, for the umpteenth time, the work- stations in the studio have been rearranged so I can have several works in progress at the same time, watercolor, markers, and pastel.  There is a common misperception that I am prolific because all I do is work, but the truth is, at least half of my time in the studio is spent with my feet up, reading, listening to music or “resting my eyes”.

Hey…it’s a good life.

Drawing and whatever

Drawing and watercolor

Drawing...pen - ink - markers - pastel

work in progress...Jim's BBQ

work in progress...Grace Church