Thursday, 2 February 2012

the bumpy ride of living proof

  • the Paintings and Inter-Discipline of . . .

  • It has been a very bumpy ride to get here to the start of blogging on my visual art. it is time to get back on the horse. The journey began as, and continues to be an inner, spiritual, until death do us part relationship, archaeology, exploration into everywhere and nowhere. Creating an energy within the paintings that is sensing and feeling its' way through the darkness, as we all do in life to one extent or another. They have been searching for their voice, as I do in this life.
  • . I remember when I used to have much clearer streams of syntax and conceptual consciousness about the work. There were stories from the heart and intellect, visceral and passionate. Something has happened in the last 20 years. Words no longer come so easily. The paint and the emotions have become so woven together that when I reach for them, I falter frequently. Words have all become like a stream of Burroughs'cut-ups.
    A life has evolved beyond that majik bubble called 'art school days'. That bubble was a fantastik, traumatic, dangerous, self destructive place in time. . . of madness and bliss. I have survived, moved on, and am making work now that reflects much of what the work at that time was pointing to. 
    Over these years, the path to here was lost to me, unknown, desperate, infrequently merely glipsed at, broken, but slowly, and thankfully, returned to me.
    The early days began newborn, my formative years of young adult life,.... very serious, shy, and timid, but it didnt take long before all of that went out the window. I opened a floodgate of self expression, relentlessly forcing myself out of my comfort zones into experience and awkward growth, growing up, growing sideways, sinking down into the depths of the concept of madness in art, leading to my own madness, and manifesting, changing, distorting, my perception of my place in this whirld and the place of art in my life. Futher and further out, and into the unknown was my need, my howl into the universe. I was experienced by some as a soothsayer, a raging painful maniac, a force to be reckoned with, I was onto something that had an unending charge and was not unlike an addiction. I was fully engaged in the larger questions of existence, the meaning of life, within the microcosm and macrocosm, in the process of eternal creation, tapping into the stream of consciousness.

    In 1995, a theory that was stuck in my head from early art school days, was loosed when i could no longer tolerate the act of squeezing paint out of tubes, mixing the paint, and then painting. The process had become far too indirect. I began what was effectively channeling music. The sounds were the paintings. Words to these sounds came from the proverbial suitcase full of scraps of paper that i had been collecting since early 1988. I had found new life, new energy, and a way of expanding the language of the paintings. I had established a trinity of languages that spoke to, and through each other. The writings have yet to be properly dealt with beyond collection into book form and are 'in storage'. Information on the music =
    Lastly, as a way of giving my emotional energies some respite from time to time, I painted 'traditional themes. .. . see examples here =
  • For further introduction into this mind-as-artist of mine, read A Brief History.  

  • I have literally spent the past 20 years of my life living by any and all means necessary to continue to develop and focus on both the physical and conceptual process of the work .....and very little on the business of art: a classic anti-ego strategy, but the ego has become sick and now needs much resuscitation back to full health. After more than a few false starts, this is the end of hiding in my cave skratching and digging in the dirt. It is now time to come out into the light and start some serious communicating. My eyes still can't take the light and will need time to adjust to whatever comes next while i being conjuring my bliss and living in the world, no longer in isolation. Still in my 43rd year, HERE WE GO....

No comments:

Post a Comment