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.

MY BOOKS part II

HERE I SIT #1

Here I sit with pen in hand,

Dreaming of the Promised land.

Unfettered days of my design,

To do the work I claim as mine.

But then I wonder-as here I sit,

Will this be more of the same old shit?

Alas, for me, only time will tell,

As sure as this line rhymes with hell.

The days pass by with their silent dreams,

Ever faster, or so it seems.

Can I withstand so much unknown,

Till we reach our new Kentucky home?

12-01

HERE I SIT #2

Here I sit, pen still in hand,

Hoping for that promised land.

I knew it once, so long ago,

When lines and verses would come and go.

Where once the muses made their home,

My spirits sag as now they roam.

I left that place, or did it leave me?

So now I sit , to wait and see.

2003

MY BOOKS part 1

MY BOOKS   part 1

For 10 years, starting in the mid 1970s,  a small, 5x8 bound sketchbook was my constant companion.  It was with me all day, every day, at home, in the office, the Emergency Room, or on out of town trips.  They were the repositories for comments, doodles, drawings, and assorted nonsense, all recorded with a pen; pencils were not allowed.

They helped be survive the most tumultuous years of my life, the transition from medicine to art, a devastating divorce, and shift work in a busy city Emergency room.  Once the transformation was complete and I settled into my new life 24 books were retired to a shelf in my study, a constant reminder of what once was.

Now, some 30 years later, I find myself going back into their pages, retrieving memories and reliving some of the hopes and fears of those very intense years, reminding myself of what I wanted, what I’ve gained, and what I’ve lost.   I can honestly say that I have achieved most of what I wanted.  I have lost much, but gained far more.

Occasionally the books themselves were a source of inspiration.

BOOK 22 (with apologies the RMR)

What will you do book when I die?

When my pen and wit go dry.

When I your life and line slip by

To that giant sketchbook in the sky?

Who will remain to touch your page?

My dearest Patience in her old age?

Nay I fear this will not be...

And dearest Patience answered me

“He wonders who when it’s not he?

Who will this mystery being be?

Who will bless this book with poem and pen?

Tis Billy boy who will draw again,

with words of gold and gifted zen.

But “lo, you cry, he can’t, he’s dead”

And so is this book as it’s been said.

THE ARCHIVIST

I find myself racing in opposite directions.  The future excites me with the promise of new work and new horizons to a degree I have not experienced in recent years.  At the same this excitement is duplicated as I review and organize my work from years past, putting digital files into hard copy books using software on my computer.

I am looking forward to using the experience gained from the yearlong project, the Paducah Portfolio, on a similar endeavor, with the specifics yet to be determined.  I enjoy being engaged in projects of this size and nature that offer a variety of creative challenges.

Even as I’m mentally planning and exploring new work, I have been busy reviewing and editing the photos of my older work, looking at ways of archiving the slides digital files into hard copy.  As far back as 1978, when I first began painting, I photographed all of my work.  The resulting slides were far from professional, but after having them commercially scanned in high resolution, I’ve been able to preserve reasonably accurate images with a little tweaking in Photoshop.  I’ve created the following photo books using online software:

 Contact me if you are interested in any of the above books.  I have them printed on demand and shipped directly to you.

BOOKS - SOUL FOOD OR CLUTTER?

Sitting in this recliner I can see at least 16 books sitting in plies on the desk, the table, and the small stand beside my chair.  Included in this haphazard collection are assorted books on religion, psychology, biographies, and art, most of which I read or looked at in the immediate and/or distant past.  I pulled them off the shelves of the bookcase several months ago because I wanted to ….I really don’t know what my intentions were now that I think about it.  It had something to do with re-visiting my “journey” and recapturing the excitement and wonder of those tumultuous years.  I guess I thought looking at those books, some of which played such a critical role at the time, would make that happen.  Of course it didn’t, and I soon abandoned all efforts to do so.  But the books remain out, and for some reason I am reluctant to gather them up and put them back on the top shelves of the bookcase where they have been sitting, out of sight, for so many years.  Perhaps doing so would be a painful reminder to me that there are chapters in our lives that must remain where they are, in the past, and cannot be relived.  They can be remembered, relished or reviled, and can serve as a guide as we navigate the future.  But always they remain part of what was, and what was to be.

My study and studio are endanger of being overrun by books, they are everywhere, and most of them have been read, sometimes more than once, and the remainder have been read “selectively”...another way of saying they have been browsed.  Of course I expect to read them all once more, at some abstract time in the distant future.  Although I know I won’t, it is a fantasy that I hold on to.

Their presence gives me great comfort, a visual reminder of how I have defined myself, assuring me of who I am, accurately or inaccurately, as the case my be.

It sounds good…now it’s time to put the damn things away or they will go from soul food to clutter.

LETTING GO OF OLD FRIENDS

Some of them have been with me for over 40 years; most of them were acquired twenty to thirty years ago. I'm referring of course to the books which have been both inspirational and instructional as I worked to create a second career for myself. They have served me well, but it is time to move on, especially since space is no longer as unlimited as it once was. About half of the books I've used frequently, a quarter of them were used occasionally, and the remainder rarely or not at all. I have never hesitated in acquiring a book or a journal that I thought would help me become a better artist. The books reflect my early interest in architecture and have served as references and resources for my work, as well as providing instruction in architectural drawing and rendering.

I will be holding a book sale in my gallery and studio this weekend with everything priced "to go". ($1.00 to $5.00) Wish me well.

MY BOOKS…part 2

Further down the wall my eyes encounter several shelves of art books. These fall into four general categories: books devoted to the lives and work of artists, books about art and art history, reference/picture file books, and how-to books. Commanding the most space on one shelf are books by, about, and illustrated by Paul Hogarth, the contemporary British illustrator whose work and approach to art had a most profound effect on me early in my art career. (I will have more to say about him later.)

These are the books I do return to when I feel the need to boost my enthusiasm, search for new ideas, or just want to look at good art. Some of these books have been with me for over 30 years, some I purchased new and a few were “finds” at used bookstores. Among the artists settled on my shelves are: Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Charles Demuth, Maxfield Parrish, N.C.Wyeth,, Edward Hopper, and Norman Rockwell. It has always been much easier for me to identify with realists and illustrators than with the abstract artists.

Also in my study, scattered throughout the house, and in the studio are the reference books, books used for ideas and images for my paintings. They are mostly photographic, depicting one or more places of interest, cities, rural vistas, or wilderness scenes. Because of my interest in architectural art, I have many volumes devoted to architecture and architectural art, which I refer to frequently.
All of the books in this “art library” serve two basic purposes, to nurture the creative spirit and to teach, functions vital to all artists, but especially the self- taught.

Like the practice of medicine…the desire/need to create art is both a state of mind, and an affair of the heart. The books I have acquired over the years serve both.





Just as water seeks its own level...books have a way of finding every available flat surface in the house and studio.