“Yeah, I’m a loser at the top of my game.
I should’ve known to keep an eye on you.
Now I got a sky that ain’t never the same.
Yeah, I got a dream that don’t ever come true.”
— Tom Petty
During the closing months of my big traveling show, a notion kept intruding — perhaps I had peaked as a paper landscape artist. These kinds of pesky thoughts and feelings are not uncommon at any age. Why should they take me by surprise in the fourth
quarter of the game? Before long, I finished Haven on the Knob, and then the piece featured in this entry. That settled it.
The false point of my worry is demonstrably not the case, as far I need to be concerned. Others are entitled to their independent assessment. The first collage evolved as a multi-session, plein-air impression until I brought it inside for a lengthy finish. The second was time consuming, too — a studio-based commission from a provided photograph. Both benefit from everything I have learned about the potential of paper as a painting medium. Both combine intuitive abstraction and crafted precision for what I intend to be a pictorial representation that is full of lyrical expression. Please take a closer look at the development of It’s Heaven Back There:
As a collage artist, there is still plenty of ground in front of me to cultivate. There is no reason to believe that I cannot get better at using unconventional materials for a traditional genre of art. There is no reason to assume that I cannot apply my experience to portraiture and still life, or to bring it full circle to the legacy of non-pictorial collage, where my adventure with discarded stuff as art ingredients began. No reason for any of that concern. Unless I lose my focus about what a creative dynamic truly is.
People have told me my entire life that I had talent, as if that summed up everything. I was quick to accept and run with it, but, even in boyhood, something about it started to bother me, as if it was just the small part of a whole that remained hidden. Eventually it became clear that talent is simply the beginning — a gift, but also a profound responsibility. It’s not really worth much unless developed with education, discipline, ongoing effort, and perseverance. With that obligation comes the necessity of not only following a worthy impulse, but also conquering the doubts and fears that go with it. More importantly, it requires confronting the inherent pride that was seeded the very first time somebody said, “Oh, you’re so talented.” I don’t think it’s an inner process that ever goes away, and it can feel arduous from time to time.
For me, the challenge goes beyond unraveling what it is to be a creative individual, but what it means to be a soul called upon to put all the priorities of divine creation into alignment — to discover, by grace, the truth of my human nature, to understand the pitfalls along the journey that any recipient of talent is compelled to undertake, and to discern my intended role as a cooperative instrument of a greater purpose, as a grateful “agent” for the creative source of everything that was, is now, or ever shall be.
It’s Heaven Back There
Oldham County, Kentucky
collage landscape by J A Dixon
paper on canvas panel, 16 x 12 inches
private commission
