Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

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.

bl171b.jpg

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!”

3_11_2012.jpg

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.

dixon_merz.jpg

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

to California by train ~ part five

Wednesday, November 23rd, 2011

No major outings today, since the B’bach family is settling into Thanksgiving mode, but we did have a good lunch with Lauren and Kellie at the Dos Coyotes border restaurant here in Davis. I continued to correspond with JMM, who is in LA for the holiday (both of us in the same state, but so far away). He responded to my curiosity about the California light with these wonderful words, “Oh yes, my friend, the light is different out here. When the early 19th Century painters took their stuff back east, people exclaimed that light simply does not do what it they showed it to do in the West. Imagine Half Dome or El Capitan revealed from a mile or two, but without air to blur and soften. Can’t be done, they said. From there, we seem to love our American West very much for its revealing Air (Spiritus) and the inspiring of it (Inspiritus). The freedom from the well-worn assumptions of the American East (which is hardly ever capitalized) is necessary for the likes of us that need a new perspective now and then. Your ideas are more likely to be met graciously out West.” Mike is doing fine, but he misses his late father, of course. Oh, I know how it feels. It’s nice to see Dana so relaxed and full of smiles during the lead-up to this holiday. I suppose that part of this adventure is meant as a distraction for us, as we observe our first Thanksgiving without Bruce. It is good for her to be with her family. For me, too, and it’s also a mini-sabbatical, as I spend valuable time with books about key Bay-area painters. Looking at reproductions of Thiebaud’s pie paintings while the house is filled with the fragrance of actual pies baking was almost beyond my endurance. When the young generations left tonight, Bill and I made dinner together. The four of us had a great evening of food, wine, and conversation. It was fun to hear all the old stories of the Breidenbach heritage and lore.

pies

to California by train ~ part four

Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

Lay in bed this morning, waiting for the sun to come up, so I guess my body still hasn’t adjusted itself to the time difference. On another level, I couldn’t wait for the day to begin — and what a day it has been! After preparing more revised documents for the Community Trails Committee back home (I’m all set up for online work in the Breidenbach office), we made an outing to the Crocker Art Museum in downtown Sacramento. I got to see my first Thiebaud and Kondos originals, in addition to many other stimulating artworks. I was stunned by a large Rockwell Kent (he painted the site in Greenland after reaching it by dogsled) and stumbled upon one of the most masterful watercolors I’ve seen in person: “California Oak and Carmel Mission” by Francis McComas. How could I have never realized that the capital of this unique state would have such extraordinary art to experience? Is the light different here? Something about the sun on the autumn trees across from the Crocker seemed especially unusual.

Crocker Art Museum

Thursday, October 13th, 2011

Selective Memory

Selective Memory
by John Andrew Dixon
mixed media collage on panel, 20 x 16 inches
created in August/September 2011, Danville

I’m pleased that a collage was chosen to be part of the second in a series of landscape exhibitions at the Community Arts Center. Although I continue to use found material as standard ingredients, the piece marks a departure from the direction of previous work. Inspired by the plein air activity of my friends (Dorothee, Marianna, Donna, and Mike), Selective Memory and Day Fulfilled (not selected) were created specifically for the opportunity and I pushed my technique toward an effect that fused both representational and abstract qualities. Framing the composition within a cosmic surrounding occurred to me as I thought about how to the best present the result. Dana, Mombo, and Joan came to the reception tonight. I was baffled by which inclusions were awarded cash, but the number of friends who expressed approval with my selection made me happy. The closest thing to this that I’ve done previously may have been 1525 Redwood, the house portrait created for Flo and Bill. I want to investigate this approach further with more landscapes (perhaps another real location) and with a still life, too.

Favorite haunt

Saturday, April 30th, 2011

We scrubbed our original agenda to visit a museum and adopted a more relaxed plan to hang out in Evanston, see a movie, shop a little, and to gradually work our way north toward the base. We saw a matinee screening of “The Conspirator,” which apparently is not burning up the box office this weekend. I thought the opening depiction of the assassination night was interesting, but the courtroom scenes were uninspired. Admittedly, they are very difficult to pull off. When not scripted with the typically unrealistic dynamics, they usually play out with a certain monotony or stereotypical dialogue. Lumet’s “The Verdict” ruined me for life, I suppose. Overall, I enjoyed the production design and art direction, but the picture lacked the story-telling power of Redford’s early projects. I had a similar feeling when I recently watched Clint’s “Hereafter.” Afterward, Marty bought himself some sketching materials at Blick’s and surprised me with a set of colored fine-points for card making. He gave Dana a gift of Hawaiian coffee beans. When I got online, I discovered that Joan had emailed a wonderful account of goings-on with our mother at the Gels funeral. It sounds like she was in rare form and provided everyone a taste of the true “Jinny Spirit.” I hope Joan compiles her notes as a nice blog entry. Wish I could have been present, but we were exactly where we were supposed to be, and I pray for more such “Mombo Moments” to experience firsthand.

Various & Sundry, part eighty-five

Thursday, December 30th, 2010

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

— Year of 2010 workout totals: Swim-35; Bike-40; Powerwalk-3; Run-0; Lift-0; Pilates-0; Lupus Drills-0

— There is no good justification for having any of these annual numbers come in under 48. I managed to preserve some level of basic fitness this year, thanks only to continued pool access and my fondness for being on a bicycle, but I can’t kid myself—if I don’t reverse this slow decline in vigorous activity, I shall pay a price over time, and it will be a price I can’t afford. My hope for 2011: a new momentum of exercise that will result in a more balanced routine, with 7-10 pounds of weight loss by my birthday.

— The best exhibitions I’ve experienced this year? The ones that occur to me now are the Surrealism show at the Cincinnati Art Museum, the California Impressionists show at the Dayton Art Institute, and the Collage show at Northern Kentucky University. I shall not soon forget seeing my first original Schwitters collage or Cornell box. I am challenged to learn more about Louise Nevelson, Hannah Höch, Alfred Mitchell, William Wendt, Percy Gray, Matthew Rose, David Wallace, Cecil Touchon Janet Jones, Dennis Parlante, and Stephanie Dalton Cowan.

— One of these days I’ll start to fully comprehend what mobile technologies portend for my creative work style. Believe it or not, I still don’t know what to make of these changes in communications. They seem to be touching everything, even my annual experience at Barefoot’s Resort. Being able to have a MacBook Pro and access to a wireless broadband connection changes everything about staying on top of project priorities while out of the studio. Bullets showed me his Kindle and I liked it. I didn’t expect to. Everybody around me seems to have an iPhone. How can I stay abreast? How can I hope to remain a communication designer amid all these transformations?

— Dana’s blunder with the non-existent gas line sent me into a bit of a tailspin, until I realized that tearing apart my work space in the basement would probably result in a better situation after the dust settled. Lesson: disruptions can be opportunities. I need to embrace change more, as I used to do. Look at how Dana has taken on a new discipline with Bruce’s in-home dialysis. We all tend to make room for what we consider the most important things, and that includes procrastination.

— Very well . . . here I am at the close of another year. I can’t change a single thing about the past. In hindsight, the preceding weeks look like some type of malaise. Not that there haven’t been a few highlights, such as the Safariland Doe with my solo harvest at Blue Bank Farm, or the recent push to restore our conference room, but overall it has been a dismal quarter. Enough with the negative. I have the new-year opportunity to shake off the “humbug” and get it together. There’s always the historically strong motivator of Resolutions, to reboot my priorities and catalyze a new momentum that would carry me toward my 60th birthday in 16 months. Time to plot a systematic, gradient escalation to full engagement— physically and mentally —to balance professional, financial, and artistic activity. Reclaim it!

V & S

Elusive speculations

Monday, December 27th, 2010

I need to do another entry about VT, now that my direct work with a therapist is over. I should have kept up a more regular account, since now it will be more difficult to reconstruct a coherent record of the experience. I was thinking about how, after a rough session, I had what seemed to be a moment of broad clarity. For me, these occurrences consist of distinct interconnections and apparent cause/effect relationships with respect to aspects of life not previously associated in my thinking. Sometimes these connections fade to the point where the entire insight can be called into question, and I’m left with a vague sense that my inner mental acuity is as unreliable as my memory. This time it was an electric thought that perhaps my vision dysfunction was directly related to a latent but powerful level of stress that has derived from my creativity having been held up to the continual scrutiny and subjective evaluation of others. “Well, of course,” one might say. How can one become a mature creative person, much less a professional resource, if one doesn’t learn to cope with either the legitimate opinions or capricious expectations of others? And so it becomes a matter of attitude or inner posture. If the inherent tension is not successfully mitigated at an unconscious level, it’s quite possible that there will be corrosive influences and negative consequences in the organism. I was left with a brief, troubling notion that “most of my creative life has been wasted,” because I hadn’t nourished a stance optimally detached from any sanction or disapproval from others. Has the failure to properly offset personal fulfillment with the satisfaction of others created a fundamental contradiction at the heart of what I do that induces and maintains deep internal stress? Am I the kind of individual with such a basic urge to follow my artistic impulse that a life of constraint based on the anticipation of external judgment has resulted in some form of rebellion by my body, mind, or spirit? And, if so, what in heaven’s name can be done about it now?

Well, excuse me . . .

Monday, October 11th, 2010

While at the World Equestrian Games, a
lady gave me a dirty look when I tried to
invite her interest in my art and design . . .

as she walked through THE BLOODY TRADE SHOW!

Dixon Design examples

Friday, April 2nd, 2010

pieta

Favorable exposure

Saturday, March 20th, 2010

March Exercise V —day twenty— I now have my foot in the door at the Kentucky Artisan Center, thanks to a good friend. Decision makers there chose to purchase three of my wood engravings for the upcoming “Black and White” exhibition. This is a very good sign, because I would’ve been thrilled if they’d taken a few merely on consignment. Dana and I traveled to Berea today to deliver the prints and see the facility for the first time. We spent a bit more time downtown at a couple galleries, but we got so hungry we found ourselves heading north to Lexington for a celebratory dining experience. Even though we ran smack into the Wildcats game-viewing crowd and had to endure an inordinately long wait for our meals, it was a satisfying finish to a most uplifting day.

Today’s sight bite— Squares of assembled stone in a multiple of subtle hues —c-l-i-c-k— provide a captivating visual stimulus as memorable as the sensory overload of artistic creations.

Previously on M-Ex— The Graybeard is confounded. (3/20/07)

Tomorrow— First bike ride of the year…

dixon_engraving.jpg

Thirty two

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

March Exercise V —day ten— Woke up early with a sore throat, after a feverish, restless night. I really did not want to keep my consulting appointment, but I felt satisfactory once the meeting began. Joan and Mombo stopped by later in the day to deliberate on the topic of a new mattress, but I was a far cry from 100%. All I can do is rest up and aim for a more productive tomorrow. I learned that the Artisan Center wants to purchase three of my wood engravings up front at the wholesale cost. It will be equal to the best price I’ve ever received for one. This is the 32nd anniversary of my first date with Dana. I wish I was feeling better.

Today’s sight bite— The face I see each day —c-l-i-c-k— is the face I shall see forever.

Previously on M-Ex— I do battle with the “inner wimp.” (3/10/07)

Tomorrow— Sitting in local judgment…

young dana

Someplace else

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

March Exercise V —day nine— Even when nothing goes according to plan, good things can happen as a result. After vision therapy, I had to meet Dana in Nicholasville so that Marty’s car could be available for the appointment Joan scheduled at the Toyota dealer. My first notion was that I just wanted to get back to the studio and not lose my morning, but it was already obvious that Plan A wasn’t coming down, so I shifted gears accordingly. As it turned out, I spent some time at a Starbucks and captured some good ideas. Because Bruce still had his engine torn down, we had to drive him to dialysis and get the to-go food he wanted, before we could grab our own lunch. I wrote a draft for a radio spot while Dana was inside the McDonalds. I don’t know why I have to keep proving to myself that I can work anywhere, especially when I often find the ability to take a fresh look at things when I’m “someplace else.” It’s simply a matter of accepting that I’m always in the right place, that every environment can offer something to the creative process, or, if it honestly can’t, then at least the inner momentum can be preserved. When I finally did get back to my home base it was afternoon, but I was there in time to take two important calls. Gwen phoned to let me know that it was likely that the Kentucky Artisan Center would be displaying my wood engravings. And then I talked to a prospect about upgrading the online presence for a Lexington business. This looks like a job for Website Makeover™ Man!

Today’s sight bite— A geometric pattern of holes on the slowly revolving disk —c-l-i-c-k— challenging my eye-hand coordination.

Previously on M-Ex— Ideas and aspirations are always bubbling up in March. (3/9/09)

Tomorrow— A new project begins…

Someplace else

Renaissance man

Friday, March 5th, 2010

March Exercise V —day five— It began as a typical M-Ex day, feeling deprived of sleep, but eager to harness an elusive stream of motivation. The Shadow Trader was on his game, and by late morning I’d made some key portfolio adjustments before heading to the pool for a workout. In the afternoon, the ever-present tug-of-war between concentration and interruption presented itself when Bruce needed my help with his car repairs, just as I was hitting my stride with the bank campaign. For me the emotional challenge of capturing an idea is nothing compared to dealing with the threat of losing momentum in the midst of a successful creative process. I don’t work on cars. I’ve never worked on cars. I hate to work on cars. But there you have it—what the exercise is all about—because this is what every artistic individual has faced since that first cave-wall painter was furiously dragged by his hair to the mastodon-skinning site. Just think of all the distractions my Grandfather Seitz experienced as a father of eleven children (seven boys!) while he was involved in painting murals, organizing choirs, directing plays, or practicing the organ. I think of this now, after listening to Mombo give credit to her parents when we all gathered as a Clan to honor her as a truly exceptional mother. She measures herself against them in the same way we hold our own wisdom and maturity up to her example. How many more March rituals shall I require to meet that high standard?

Today’s sight bite— My mother in front of her birthday candles —c-l-i-c-k— as diminutive as her sisters before her.

Previously on M-Ex— Rest, focus, distraction, flexibility—some things don’t change. (3/5/07)

Tomorrow— Rest and regroup…

John “Pop” Seitz

Negative splits

Monday, March 1st, 2010

March Exercise V —day one— After a fantastic weekend packed with friendship, today began with a mood of glum dissatisfaction because the initial cadence of my regimen left something to be desired. By afternoon my attitude had shifted, and I found myself in a mode more characteristic of my best 5k-run experiences: start out with a comfortable pace and successfully pick up speed. In the running world it’s called negative splits. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Today’s sight bite— Concentric rings of vivid vessels suspended overhead —c-l-i-c-k— with each globe of pure color reflecting the terrazzo compass at my feet.

Previously on M-Ex— With a few finishing touches, “Spellbound By Brass” is complete. (3/1/07)

Tomorrow— Seventh vision therapy session…

Library Rotunda

“Jonrik” is no more . . .

Friday, January 8th, 2010

jonrik cartoon

This is the last image I created in a partially successful effort to provide “cartoons to the editor,” in partnership with my pal, Rick. It’s from 2003, when several improbable events converged: Kentucky elected the first Republican governor in a generation, Saddam was captured in Iraq, Boyle County and Danville football teams concurrently won state championships for the third time, and local voters passed a liquor-by-the-drink ballot measure. The cartoon was rejected for unknown reasons. In retrospect, it does seen to violate one of the basic rules of editorial drawing— focus on a single, easy-to-grasp idea. Oh well, I still like that style, but it was too much work to continue for free.

Various & Sundry, part eighty-four

Thursday, December 31st, 2009

— Year of 2009 workout totals: Swim-43; Bike-38; Run-1; Lift-3; Pilates-16; Lupus Drill-3

— Back spasms and muscle injuries shut down my gym time early in the year, and I never could recapture the momentum. Eventually had to curtail the Pilates work, too, but assigned myself an improved swimming and cycling pattern. Running played no part in the annual effort. My new hope is that 2010 will take on a more balanced character, otherwise my long-held exercise habit could turn into a flab-it.

— An even more regular fitness regimen is on my list of New Year’s resolutions. I also need to:

•   Partake of the great writers—
     Conrad, Hugo, Dickens, plus more Hemingway, Kipling, Tolstoy
•   Gain new levels of skill with hand, eye, and mind—
     Brush Stroke, Graver Line, Digital Effect, Options Trade, Chess Move
•   Spend more time in the knobs with Marty
•   Take Dana to the west coast — somehow . . .

— Another year has passed, and it is ever gratifying to create things which satisfy one’s own artistic urge, while promoting commercial activity that helps provide abundance and livelihoods to others. But, as always, it is never pleasant to continually justify the role of the design professional in an environment of declining visual literacy, where everyone can stand their uninformed, subjective ground to affirm the inappropriate, or declare that mediocrity is “good enough.”

— An unexpected viral assault has threatened my long-anticipated year-end participation in Louisville, but a counter-barrage of immune system boosters is under way, and, so far, I successfully made it to the city intact for the wonderful rehearsal dinner last night. The final day of the year is a bedridden affair, with fifteen back-to-back Twilight Zone episodes to suitably infuse the atmosphere with surreality.

To Caitlan and Kyle— Happy New Year!

V & S

Eventidings

Thursday, December 24th, 2009

Our Christmas Eve celebration with Clan is over. Joan captures it best.

Earlier today I was trying to locate a print for us to give as a gift and ran across a collage that I barely remembered creating. Interestingly, I was not overly impressed, although I had to admit the piece is visually striking. So much of my life involves the effort to exact compensation for my creative abilities. My impressions have given rise to the typical holiday-season musings:

First thought . . .
I’ve neglected mixed media for inappropriate reasons.

Second thought . . .
My original investigations were unrelated to economics.

Third thought . . .
I must reject any temptation to invite commercialism.

Fourth thought . . .
I am capable of pushing this medium beyond previous levels.

Team approach

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

I’ve come to the end of a outstanding week that began last Friday when I headed to Monterey for my fifth workshop with Wesley Bates. I didn’t pitch a tent this year, but had the familiar loft at Larkspur Press to myself each night. The opportunity to concentrate on wood engraving for three days in that extraordinary environment made sleeping on a wood floor seem like the ultimate in accommodations. I continue to learn more about the art form with every retreat, and I now face the breakthrough act of finally acquiring my own set of customized tools, so I can maintain a year-round practice to replace my once-a-year introductory learning curve. On Saturday night, Wes, Juanita, Leslie, and I drove over to Hanna’s “house concert” by Kraig Kenning, at the home Prajna Design created for her (builder Garry Murphy was there, and I chatted with him). I’m prepared to say that Kenning is the best steel guitar performer that I’ve heard live (and I once watched David Lindley tape a Soundstage concert with Jackson Browne in Chicago). An enjoyable nightcap with Wes extended deep into the night as both of us discovered that we have even more in common as creative professionals. It was nice this time around to balance social enjoyment with lots of one-on-one time with Wes.

The subject of my block was a pair of handsome mules that worked the Realm of Greystone when James brought in low-tech loggers after the ice storm of 1994. I managed to get some decent slides while they were in the Valley—undoubtedly the last high-level transparencies I may ever take. It wasn’t a bad note on which to end my slide-shooting era. I’ve always wanted to begin exploiting those images for my art, and so I selected a shot of two mules with the tobacco barn in the background (a suitable tribute to the recently fallen landmark). My goal was to chose a style that would enable me to complete the block and print it within the weekend constraint, and that meant consulting with Wes about how to use an approach that didn’t rely on time-intensive technique (the path I found myself on last year, resulting in a missed deadline). I may not ultimately like “Logger’s Team” as much as my 2008 print, but I learned much about the medium, with a big step closer to understanding the elegantly minimal line quality that Bates has truly mastered.

Last night I headed north again with Dana and Joan for Richard’s First Friday event in Old Frankfort. Wesley’s wife, Juanita Wilkins, performed and Richard read poems from his new volume about Abraham Lincoln (commissioned for the bicentennial observation). Everything about the evening was splendid, and there was a magical moment when the unknown “Harmonica Man” appeared from nowhere with his “harp belt” to jam with Juanita. I’ve been so fortunate to hear her a number of times now, and she never sounded better to me than last night; nor had she conversed with her audience so impressively or in such a personally revealing way. Absolutely wonderful…

Wesley Bates Studio