Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

March Exercise IX ~ day twelve

Wednesday, March 12th, 2014

I began posting “Pulcinella’s Secret” online last night. One comment maker on facebook asked me if I have been creating daily college entries for nine years. My earlier concern about the potential for misinterpretation was valid, or perhaps people don’t spend enough time these days to comprehend the full picture. I felt it necessary to cite the John Evans factoid.

March Exercise IX ~ day four

Tuesday, March 4th, 2014

A facebook photo and comment by F Free triggered a mental collage that I immediately decided to put to paper. It became Short of Her Zenith, my miniature for the day. I decided to remove the word “today’s” from the journal experiment subhead, because it implied that I had created the study that day, when it simply is meant to represent a investigation relevant to the work that I actually did create (the miniature). It probably is not clear anyway, but I do not want to junk up this month’s TCM display with extra words. Perhaps I shall add a note in a late-February precursor entry. I still intend to post my gallery photos from Ingredients Reclaimed.

March Exercise IX ~ day one

Saturday, March 1st, 2014

Taking down “Ingredients Reclaimed” was not a happy task. The Mahan Gallery was a perfect setting for my artwork, and I wish the exhibit could have hung longer. Only sold one piece. Dana’s consolation: “It’s Danville.” I should dwell instead on all the good aspects of organizing this show and how positive the response has been, but it’s no fun to dismantle these things. That is just the way it is. Because the day was mild (the proverbial lamb?), I decided to prune the big bush by the northwest corner of the front porch. It gives me pleasure, but aggravates my sore right wrist. In the middle of completing my first new miniature of the month, as I write this entry, and I feel rusty for some reason. Evidently I have lost touch with my art, to a degree, after lots of computer work over the past weeks, even though I also have spent time studying my items on display at the Library. Sometimes I look at a collage that I have done and possess no clear recollection of making it. I need to use this month to connect with the process on a more profound level. For some reason, I get the notion that achieving this has much to do with the ingredients, and my approach to their selection. Keep thinking about that.

Autumn Ode (to Merz)

Wednesday, October 23rd, 2013

This is a collage artwork that I currently have on display as part of the “Autumn Glory” exhibition in the Mahan Gallery at the Boyle County Public Library. The show lasts until December 1st.
 

Autumn Ode (to Merz)
mixed-media collage by J A Dixon
16 x 20 inches, framed

Gallery Hop ~ a precursor to Open Studio

Wednesday, August 21st, 2013

At the recent Gallery Hop Stop in downtown Danville, I was pleased that people sought out my display of collage miniatures, tucked away in the conference room of Tye Financial. Needless to say, this small town in Kentucky is not a stronghold of contemporary art collectors, but the opportunity to interact with those kind enough to pause and discuss the medium of collage is always a valuable learning experience for me. Most of my hoard is now configured for direct purchase at The Collage Miniaturist, before all of it is made available to the public at the 2013 ArtTour, Annual Open Studios of Central Kentucky.

Go ahead and grab one for yourself before November.
 

My recent display of collage miniatures in downtown Danville.

Day Fulfilled

Saturday, July 20th, 2013

This is a small mixed-media-plus-collage landscape. I hand-crafted the frame from weathered Japanese redwood — recycled slats from a fatally damaged patio chair I could not bring myself to throw away. The work currently hangs in the Mahan Gallery at Boyle County Public Library, as part of a “SummerScape” exhibition, which lasts until August 29th. One of the most extraordinary things about having our home studio in downtown Danville is having that library right across the street.

I began with scrunched-up paper and scraps of vellum, applying numerous layers of a thin “acrylic milk,” tinting it with various drops of concentrated liquid watercolors, and adding white tissue along the way to evolve the clouds. The process is a slow manifestation and allows for multiple mid-course decisions as the translucency is gradually built. To be honest, I have not created many artworks using this technique. Yesterday I added this to The Collage Miniaturist, but I think it belongs here, too.
 

 

Day Fulfilled
mixed media + collage
by J A Dixon
13.5 x 10.5 inches
Available for purchase

Ninety years ago . . .

Wednesday, April 17th, 2013

This would be Dadbo’s 90th birthday, had he not been lost to us nearly 20 years ago. For the rest of my life I shall create pictures of him. As I’ve said before, I can’t know what he’d think of that, but I suspect his feelings would be mixed. Modest enough to be uncomfortable with the practice, he might have approved, on the other hand, of my using his image as a mechanism for continuous artistic investigation. It’s natural for me to think about him on his birthday and how enhanced my life would be if I still had access to his wisdom, evolving perspective, and keen sense of leadership. Whether we comprehend it or not, each of us has a meaningful influence by our very presence in the drama of existence, affecting our world and others in countless ways. Perhaps our departures from the stage will be less profound than his, depending on how each of us has played our part. When one is as beloved as my namesake, the absence is a deeply felt void which sends wide ripples across the surface of family life. And so, it is a day for me to pay tribute, in the springtime he cherished, and to declare that I shall love him forever.
 

Variations on a Theme by Grandybo, Part Eight
mixed-media collage by J A Dixon, 2006
collection of Alyxandria Kenner

Mar/X Five

Tuesday, March 5th, 2013

My participation in the local Chamber’s Young Entrepreneur (YEA) program touched a bit too much on my growing ambivalence about being the traditional businessman. Why do I yearn so much for the life of the fine artist? Yes, I know it requires practical marketing and sales activities, but I can take what I already know and apply it to a new venture of self-promotion, in contrast to the same 30-odd year challenge of pushing my graphic design capability. I keep saying how much the profession has changed, and indeed it has been profoundly transformed, but I suspect the real issue facing me is that I’ve changed even more.

Mar/X Four

Monday, March 4th, 2013

Concentrating on miniatures seems right to me at this time, but a shift to larger works will be appropriate when I eventually get a solo show somewhere. I’ll enter the best of my current crop of small pieces in the “NOT-2-BIG” exhibition and submit a “miniature miniature” in Sherryl’s event in Yellow Springs. The satisfaction of producing Diamonds in the Rough is a restless call to scale up, and my larger works will probably continue to be more calculated than in the past. I’ll use that approach with my donation to the “Art-full Raffle” this year— something planned and executed specifically for that occasion. This gets to the heart of refining my process, using miniatures as a creative gateway to bigger, more complex ideas that deserve the investment of more time, not to mention a substantial sticker price. The challenge is to arrive at a methodology that fuses a mastery of style and technique with an outlook, a perspective, a “voice,” that delivers more than a sense of spontaneity and aesthetic unity, but a way of conveying something worth saying.

Mar/X Three

Sunday, March 3rd, 2013

Haven’t even taken three sips of bean brew this morning and my mind is already galloping free. Is the world changing too fast or just caught in a bizarre status quo? The “news” out of DC is unbearable. Is anyone there capable of leadership or problem solving? Naive to even think that’s possible? Can’t tell anymore if things are going haywire or are carefully scripted. Corporations seem prepared to do almost anything in service to the bottom line (even Maker’s Mark tried to water down its Bourbon before a base of dedicated consumers took to pitchforks), and political whores seem willing to stop at nothing to erode what were once enduring freedoms. What is with this throwback to the roots of proto-fascist collectivism in the American body politic? Was the pendulum bound to swing, or is “my America” really slipping away? Perhaps it was an illusion, but I can’t let it go. Is there some way for me to incorporate my concerns into my art? Good question. Collage can be an ideal medium for social commentary, but it needs to be done with careful, nuanced thought. Not sure if I am the best guy to tackle it, or if I even want to, but I know that I should not reject the idea just because it would be more difficult than what I’m currently creating. No doubt that I could bring all the same aesthetic considerations to bear, but it would be a much deeper conceptual challenge. And, sadly, I do fret about producing work that has no market value (probably the most stupid worry in which a creative person can indulge and still purport to call oneself a modern artist).

Mar/X Two

Saturday, March 2nd, 2013

I perceive that in spite of all the cutting, tearing, and pasting of my miniatures work, my hand skills have been suffering. They need a boost; so, more brush, pencil, and pen this month to break the pattern. Nonetheless, I am already feeling a sense of satisfaction with the collage activity so far. Must consciously use it as a impetus for progress in other areas. No mistake about it, the success of this endeavor will be built on making art— having a good time doing it and harnessing the pleasure as a catalyst.

Mar/X One

Friday, March 1st, 2013

The March Exercise commences with an emphasis on gradient focus and the avoidance of dissipation. Among goals that include completion of the Barrett commission, I shall post a new collage miniature each day for the duration of the month. March gave every indication that it was coming in like a lion with snow flurries most of the day. We shall see if the trend confirms. No leonine effort from me. I intend to pick up my pace and intensity gradually in the manner of “negative splits,” unlike previous rituals. I’m optimistic that it will prove a better process for me.

Resolved . . .

Tuesday, January 1st, 2013

For those who go out of their way to sow seeds of disdain for the customary list of New Year’s resolutions: it’s not about now long it stays viable, or about the resulting success rate, or whether it retains meaning in a culture where overt self-improvement carries a tinge of “fuddy-duddy-ness.” For me it’s about one’s mindset at the cyclical cusp. Is it merely “the thought that counts”? No, it’s more than that. The thought becomes a renewal of self-belief, expressed in line-items of striving. It requires introspection, evaluation, and discernment—hardly fashionable, to be sure. All I know is that they have worked for me at some level, so I’m not sheepish about continuing the practice. I don’t feel the need to broadcast my aims for the year, and listing some of them here hardly constitutes that, since I seriously doubt if a half dozen people still pay any attention to this worn-out log.

• Complete the Barrett portrait.
• Do some form of vision therapy each day.
• Resurrect a more impressive fitness regimen.
• Restore my practice of stretching and meditation.
• Elevate my profile as a collage artist.
• Launch the handmade card biz with Cliff.
• Complete home improvements for an open house.
• Create our first knob-land walking trails at Blue Bank.
• Outperform the market with rules-based trading.
• Produce the first digital version of a Clan Map.
• Boost participation in caring for my mother.

Various & Sundry, part eighty-seven

Monday, December 31st, 2012

Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?
—Ecclesiastes 3:22

— Year of 2012 workout totals: Swim-13; Bike-48; Powerwalk-3; Run-0; Lift-12; Pilates-0; Yoga-0; Lupus Drills-2

— Meeting my goal of a minimum of 48 bicycle workouts seems to have had a disastrous effect on my swimming this past year—a near reversal of 2011. Does that make any sense? I was able to do my sixty-mile bike + sixty-lap swim on April 30th without a lot of pool preparation, and then the swimming totally fell apart during the summer. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t looking ahead to my annual channel swims in the Les Cheneaux, because I had already decided to skip the trip to Michigan and spend my 30th wedding anniversary with Dana.

— A series of aggravations over the past few months has resulted in daily knee pain as I head into a new year. It’s hard to say how that will affect my fitness routines. I need to find a way around it until healing takes hold. Here are the factors that must have contributed: 1) Hauling nearly a ton of free sand by wheelbarrow from the parking lot construction site across the street to the back yard. 2) Too much time hunting in a stressful, Japanese-type posture with stretched knees. 3) Moving Terie’s stuff from South Carolina. 4) Slipping on a rug and sprawling forward onto my knees. 5) Additional activity that made things worse (instead of rest), such as trimming branches and cleaning the gutters up on the roof, hauling brush to the farm and dumping it, crawling around in the attic to find squirrel holes, plus raking all the autumn leaves. It feels better than it did at first, but a return to normal could take a long time.

— Highlights of the year? Well, now that the disruption has settled and I’m used to a new dog (Ru, the Shih Tzu), it really is nice to have Terie with us, as opposed to the constant worry over her previous circumstances. Mombo’s unexpected improvement over the year is an important development. Best GABBF of all? Perhaps so. Dana and I observed decade-turning birthdays and our milestone anniversary. The 2nd Veep Debate at Centre was huge for our community (plus a great time with James and Susan). My six-oh event was extremely satisfying, as were memorable bicycle outings with Simpson, Hoover, and Hower. I shall always remember 2012 as the Centennial of Collage—the year I formalized my creation of the small collage, started my new blog, The Collage Miniaturist (catalyzed by the “Tribal Monday” sessions with Kathleen), and re-discovered wheat paste as an adhesive. The local trails summit that I helped organized was a key achievement, as well as the “Uncle Bones” graphics for Lucas, even though I disappointed myself with ridiculous delays on projects for GAB and Last Adventure. A wonderful party to follow the Johnson wedding resulted in some of the coolest pictures ever for Dana and me. And, of course, the weekend in November with another Clan wedding and the Ohio trip to install a sign with Dan and Bill was one of the best experiences of any year.

— It’s time to look forward and raise the bar for a new cycle. It may seem as though negatives outnumber the positives, but it’s just a matter of attention. Nurture—Affirm—Forgive—Inhale! There is no permanent status, because each day is a new page with the same challenges and pitfalls, but also the same opportunities for self-investment, accomplishment, practice, and constructive change. Pick one problem each day and heal it in some way. Nothing is beyond me, in and of itself, but, if I let inaction coalesce to a critical mass, it has the potential to crush. Make each day count. Eliminate the obstacles, brick by brick. Nothing new added without processing something over-ripe. Set realistic goals and re-invent the checklist. Believe that all will be fulfilled as never before.

V & S

Two More Lost from Cast of OHIOANS . . .

Tuesday, September 25th, 2012

It was 31 years ago that I finished the OHIOANS painting that would become a poster for Wright State University and a milestone artwork for me. David R sent me an image of the wall in his new office/showroom, and it’s flattering to see how he configured the wall display. Hard to believe that OHIOANS has been around for this long. We still have the original painting hanging in our Danville studio. I thought about the artwork when Neil Armstrong died. Quite a few of those depicted were living when I created the original, and I can’t help but experience a certain sadness each time one is lost (Owens right after completion, and then, over the years: Hope, Lynde, Rogers, Bombeck, Newman, and just recently, Diller, as well as Armstrong). At the beginning, I had the wild idea of trying to circulate a poster through celebrity representatives and build a master copy with multiple signatures, but never followed through. Then I thought of just getting a poster into the hands of each one alive, but I didn’t have enough to spare. I think the University did present some to a few, such as Erma Bombeck, who made some witty remark about her beehive hair-do.

There is a space above Grant’s head that I’ve used to draw an additional portrait once or twice. The one I remember most was Daytonian Allan W. Eckert. I gave it to him the first time we met during a book signing in Ohio. Years later I talked to him in Kentucky and he told me that he had included the poster with his manuscripts and “papers” that would be turned over to an institution after his demise. That was the last time I saw him. The most memorable encounter with respect to the poster was the time Jamie Farr performed in Kentucky (he played George Burns in a one-man show), and we had the good fortune to greet him backstage afterward to personally present a poster. After a demanding stage performance that must have been totally exhausting, he couldn’t have been nicer to us and joked about Corporal Klinger and his tiara.

I realize now that I was young when I pulled this off. I felt mature at the time, having just created the most challenging piece of my early career. I was 29 years old, engaged to be married, and fully ensconced in my own independent studio. In many ways, I had already achieved nearly all the goals I had set in my youth.

davidr_ohioans.jpg

OHIOANS hangs in David’s new office and showroom
(Click to view a larger image.)

The Collage Miniaturist

Wednesday, August 15th, 2012

Something occurred to me not that long ago, and I may have mentioned it here: Many of the most important things I’ve wanted to express through this personal journal already have been set down in this seven-year record. On the other hand, I came to the realization that I still had a lot to say about art, especially my approach to the century-old medium of collage. Whether the world needs yet another blog is a point I won’t question here. All I know is that I apparently need another, and so, if you’re interested, I direct you to The Collage Miniaturist. The main purpose, I have no problem admitting, is to showcase my collage artwork. That’s the selfish part. In addition, I have a strong desire to formulate and share a coherent attitude toward what it is and why I do it. I would hope that it also becomes a point of reference for others who create or appreciate the medium. That’s all I’ll say today. The rest of it can be found at TCM. We’ll see what becomes of it, by and by. I still need to add a mechanism for transacting sales, but I might as well begin to write and display images. Wish me luck.

The Collage Miniaturist

Gardenshapes by Kathleen

Saturday, July 28th, 2012

“Beauty should be shared, for it enhances our joys.
To explore its mystery is to venture towards the sublime.”
―Joseph Cornell

I hesitate to use a sports term to begin this review, but, since the Summer Olympics opened last night, I’ll set my disinclination aside to state emphatically that artist Kathleen O’Brien is at the top of her game!

Gardenshapes —an exhibition of her mixed-media collage finishing its run in the main gallery of Danville’s Community Arts Center— has ample proof to support my claim. I made one more return visit yesterday to experience the diverse subtleties of her singular creations.

Inspired by birds and flowers, and exploring the garden as a metaphor, this collection of artworks represents everything that has captivated me for years about Kathleen’s approach. These works have clearly grown out of how she thoughtfully observes and attunes with nature. They also literally contain and preserve natural ingredients. But in contrast to collage that maintains its focus on formal or intellectual juxtapositions, Kathleen’s art always nudges one toward a deeper sense of wholeness and the inner complexity of our balanced existence as both organic and spiritual beings. Without question, she has made a personal commitment to creating art as a mystical practice, and, on a communal level, to providing nature-inspired beauty as a source of healing in a fractured world.

With the strong presence of these intangible dimensions, Kathleen’s art is always esoteric, and yet she manages to make the work accessible to all with her choice of subject matter and allegiance to traditional drawing. At the same time, she can delight the eye of a fellow artist with her methodology, aesthetic choices, and pictorial skill. I’m not ashamed to admit that much of Kathleen’s symbolic virtuosity is beyond my ken, but I appreciate that it’s all in play at the intuitive level. Being near the prolific output of her creative life is simply uplifting, and that’s because all the facets of her art —whether conscious or subliminal— unify as a total perception to nourish the mind, heart, and soul.

Getting back to the show, I was initially struck by the five largest pieces (28 x 36 inches), beautifully presented against white in deep gallery-style frames of natural wood. This “look” is familiar to those who know Kathleen’s art, and enhances the work’s identity as an unique artifact, preserved behind glass, like a rare botanical or zoological specimen. They are titled with reference to the garden theme. In contrast, a separate piece (24 x 30 inches) is presented with its surface exposed in the manner of an easel painting. It looks equally at home, released from behind the glass, expertly varnished in a way that does not distract. Its name is Heaven & Earth, Yin & Yang, Dark & Light, Birds & Trees, Flowers & Bees. My eyebrows lifted as I began to read the lengthy title, but was pleased with the closing rhyme as I finished. This artist always has a quiet surprise in store. Each of the large works is visually distinctive, but very much a cohesive part of a series unified by her long dedication to compositional abstraction, to a consistent theory of color, and to diligent mark making.

The large piece titled Garden for Queen Anne’s Lace is marked by a cellular pattern resembling microscopic tissue, which, while remaining highly abstract, transforms itself into a flower garden, with an interesting emphasis on each “drop of Queen’s blood” that, when closely examined, becomes a dance of circles, squares, and triangles —a dynamic that exemplifies Kathleen’s knack for taking the observer/participant through layers of meaning. The design also incorporates the application of illustrated postage stamps. Kathleen is never far removed from a devotion to cultural references and ephemera, and her Joseph Cornell influences are ever present. A fine example of this are four pieces dedicated to bird-species (16 x 20 inches) that combine found printed patterns with her typical labor of liquid media. Nests are created with random shards and colorful scraps. Dried and painted star-like blossoms effectively merge the organic, symbolic, and celestial. In Kathleen’s collage there are many allusions to language, both literal and archetypal, and here we discover many fragments of the printed word, as well as her “trademark” calligraphy. I was particularly drawn to Garden for Blue Grosbeaks, a strong arrangement of symmetrical and asymmetrical elements that carries out more of her evident investigation into fundamental shapes —circle, square, and triangle. These compositions are anything but static, a characteristic of Kathleen’s art built on a myriad of ways in which she provokes eye movement by simulating the dynamic patterns of nature, often with the application of actual plants and minerals. A perfect case in point is 9 Bird Eggs (30 x 30 inches), with its nimble use of botanicals most artists would overlook as raw material, through which she creates a variety of rhythms within a formal, 3×3 grid structure.

I should mention that Kathleen’s control of what I call “implied viewing distance” is masterful. Enjoying her watercolor effects and hidden treasures up close is inevitably a satisfying experience, as is true with much of current small-scale mixed media collage, but her pieces also can be savored at a distance. I found myself continually studying a work from across the room and then, taking off my eye-wear, sticking my nose near the glass to examine fine detail. Whether from this point of view or from half a block away, Kathleen’s distinctive impression is always recognizable, an enviable accomplishment for any artist. For example, both Royal Lily Garden and Staple Garden contain brushwork that only can be achieved by someone who is continuously handling liquid on a tool and is fully at ease with her surface. On the other hand, she uses this micro-fluency to create the intended multi-layered depth of her macro-composition, and yet I was constantly invited to step back into the intimacy of the picture plane, much as one feels when standing back to admire a flower garden, while being compelled to converge at hand’s length, only to spy a miniature surprise —a dutiful pollinator or tiny feat of nature’s diversity within repetition.

With my fixation on the bigger paintings, it was too easy to neglect the smaller items, so I had to instruct myself to visually isolate and appreciate several other works. Two of these were within squares, and each have treatments not as pronounced elsewhere in the exhibition. Feathers uses paper itself as a dimensional medium, and The Blessing of Rain features a darker atmospheric background —a shimmering chalk texture that makes me wish Kathleen would more intensively explore the potential of pastel effects. In addition, there are three bird portraits (9 x 12 inches), with coatings of what appeared to be beeswax, which recall for me the investigations of 19th-century naturalists. My favorite is Garden for Eastern Bluebirds, with its deft pencil work and luscious color palette. Kathleen pushes her highly capable layering beyond technique to create a sense of time distortion, an interplay of wildlife and cultural antiquity that makes certain the work is much more than a lovely rendering of birds. Throughout this outstanding show are many such allusions to natural and human-made cycles that fuse the worlds of growing things and a striving race that has always responded with symbolic culture to seek a balanced place in the scheme of life.

Indeed, Kathleen O’Brien has found her place. With a home studio close to nature, and a creative passion that distills her observations and meditations through heart, head, and hand, she is a gold-medal artist of the soul.

© 2012, John Andrew Dixon

Garden for Eastern Bluebirds and Garden for Scarlet Tanagers
by Kathleen O’Brien

Parallel worlds

Tuesday, June 19th, 2012

“One man live. Another man die. One woman laugh and the other one cry.”
—Danny Darst, Lady Luck

Back in the depths of our winter mourning, when I would see people talking and laughing with delight, it seemed out of character with the tone of existence, even though I knew at the same time that it was only natural for every imaginable emotion to be continuously bubbling through the current of humanity. But didn’t I live next to a funeral home? Didn’t I know that death was a constant—running abreast of every joy I experienced on any given day?

That same contrast of feeling is with me again, to some extent, because my best buddy’s sister was in a terrible car wreck. As I write this, she holds on to life despite massive brain trauma… and this is a family that lost their patriarch only eight months ago. I know what it’s like to be plunged into the icy waters of such a vigil, and yet here I am enjoying the heck out myself this summer, basking in the glow of the marvelous Johnson wedding and the best of the Great American Brass Band Festivals to date. Mombo is doing better than anyone could have expected a few short months ago, working her way toward a full mile on the treadmill, in the face of a prognosis what would have broken the spirit of many, and yet my Clan has come together to forge an even stronger bond, proving to me once again that the unfailing light of family love is the most powerful force I have yet to encounter in this life of 60 years. Here I am, enjoying the simple pleasures of each unfolding day. I make art, watch silly TV shows, play with my pup, trade stocks, grow tomatoes, read books, and ride my bicycle like I’m still a kid… and there he is, my soul mate since 1970, wounded to the core and wondering what God holds in store for the next hour, day, week… wondering how he will be forever shaped in some as yet undiscovered way. Two connected but parallel worlds.

As I heard Dana say to another recently, “There is something sad going on in every family.” The inverse must be true as well. I remember realizing that there must be happy things occurring in my family at the same time I was selecting my son’s gravesite, but one hesitates to share such things with relatives in the grip of anguish. In this age of social networks, I’m always struck by the odd juxtapositions of delight and grief, but, of course, life has never been otherwise. However, with age, it’s just a bit more difficult to mentally insulate one’s personal world, in contrast to the manner of my youth. And so I try to let my periodic melancholy be informed by the presence of exuberance, and to allow my occasional bliss to be peppered by the knowledge of sorrow.

It seems to me that all the emotions of life are fully present in our extended circle of experience, but are fleeting, elusive stuff at the private, individual level. I wonder if the impermanence of happiness is at the root of most addictions, many of which go beyond the typical vices and substances—patterns such as gossip, broadcast news watching, pack-ratting, procrastination, argumentation, anger, and all manner of risky and abusive behaviors (yes, that includes extreme exercise, too). In place of natural serenity, we get hooked on habit-triggered adrenaline and brain chemicals that have little to do with what we should know provides the only enduring satisfaction—service to life and oneness with creation. Sensual pleasure and physical comfort have their proper place, but as a focus of life soon become an empty shell or bottomless well.

It is said that change is the only permanent state. Perhaps, but where does change originate? My only answer is: The One Creative Source—the only truly permanent thing. As we come to accept the inevitable—that life in this dimension is characterized most of all by impermanence—then we eventually learn to understand the flow of suffering and sweetness, to look for meaning in the essentials, to appreciate real friends, to value the unity of family, and to age with dignity.

Tribal Monday the First

Monday, May 7th, 2012

Kathleen and I inaugurated our two-person discussion group this afternoon. The first thing I noticed was how tranquil a space she has created as a “shrine” for her artistic dedication. One can truly listen to the heart in such a studio, and I appreciate her willingness to share it for a couple hours. For me the sense of place at Sunwise Farm is inseparable from Kathleen’s mixed media collage. The fullness of her artwork is about energy, and this energy—with the powerful intention it carries—is tied in some significant way to a field of Light that is carefully nurtured for optimum receptivity and intuition. I have long admired the way in which she maintains the uplifting focus of her art, an essence that is recognizable at fifty paces, and how her respect for the process is embodied in her bright, organized, efficient studio. What an inspiration for someone who seems caught in a perpetual struggle to concentrate, prioritize, and decisively press forward with a more streamlined vision.

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Book of Light, page 171 by Kathleen O’Brien
www.kathleen-obrien.com

March-Ex VI: sought art on day eleven

Sunday, March 11th, 2012

“I could see no reason why used tram tickets, bits of driftwood, buttons, and old junk from attics and rubbish heaps should not serve well as materials for paintings; they suited the purpose just as well as factory-made paints.”
—Kurt Schwitters

The matrix is abandoned. Is it March or not? Dana and I traveled to Louisville to see a group collage exhibition at Hard Scuffle Gallery. One of the most satisfying opening receptions I have ever attended. Caitlan and Kyle walked over to join us, and we presented our congratulations gift to him—the unusual ceramic cast by Igor. Bob and Meg attended and wanted to have dinner with us. My intention was to make it back to the farm for Mission: Madness, but the schedule went to pieces. I really hated to stand up my Pal-zee. It was a joy to re-connect with these friends. We are all at the age when it becomes a challenge to maintain the continuity of our self-employment and stability, but each of us does our part to navigate the waters with purpose and a semblance of dignity. Schwitters was the great example of always moving on to the next thing in the face of adversity, yet preserving a dedication to his unifying artistic vision. Would he disdain my current fixation on his “style?” Most likely. But an artist must absorb all one can from influences, modify one’s own creative code in the process, and venture on toward greater individuality. Bert Cooper said, “Get on with it!”

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To Pay Paul

Indebted to Merz

Tuesday, February 28th, 2012

Three of my works have been acquired by the Ontological Museum in connection with the centennial of collage, 1912–2012. No visual art form is more vital than collage on its one-hundredth birthday. Certainly there are antecedents in mosaic, the fabric arts, and various folk traditions, but the art historians have decided that either a Frenchman or a Spaniard crossed a significant threshold a dozen years into the previous century. Some may continue to debate whether collage as a technique was “invented” by Georges Braque or Pablo Picasso, but in my considered view, the seminal genius of the medium was Kurt Schwitters, perhaps the first modern artist to fully master the process. That should be no surprise to anyone who follows this blog.

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Various & Sundry, part eighty-six

Friday, December 30th, 2011

I do not write regularly in my journal… I see no reason why I should. I see no reason why any one should have the slightest sense of duty in such a matter.
—Occupant of The Hall Bedroom (Mary E. Wilkins Freeman)

— Year of 2011 workout totals: Swim-49; Bike-29; Powerwalk-25; Run-0; Lift-1; Pilates-0; Yoga-6; Lupus Drills-9

— A good showing for the year with my swimming (48+ should be the minimum for any activity), but a poor biking total leaves me with an overall sense of disappointment. I know the reasons, and will attempt to correct them in the coming year — an earlier start, twice weekly rides, and a better finish to the season. If I have any hope of mounting a milestone event for the big six-oh, it starts next week. I can’t let the cold weather deter a regular schedule. My shoulder is finally healed, and that opens up the strong possibility of a satisfactory lifting year. I have all the incentives to make this a banner cycle. Get on with it.

— The top exhibitions of the year? It begins and ends, of course, with “Color and Collage,” the Kurt Schwitters show at the Berkeley Art Museum. The display of California Impressionist paintings at the DAI and the major show we saw in Nashville, “The Birth of Impressionism: Masterpieces from the Musée D’Orsay” were both highly memorable. Add to that the “Rough Roads” retrospective of Bob and Ted’s Kentucky photos from the 70s, plus all the art Dana and I experienced in the Bay Area this fall, makes me realize I can’t complain about the opportunities of the previous year. Perhaps it’s true that we needed to balance the general rotten quality of 2011 by seeking out more great art. If so, that’s just fine, and we should keep it up.

V & S