I am pleased to announce the following two paintings have been juried in to the following show.
"Freeing the Forbidden"
"Black Wives Matter"
Pacific Grove Public Library
“Remember, Rise, Revitalize”
A Fine Art Juried Show
Celebrating the Writers, Artists and the Arts of the Harlem Renaissance
October 4, 2022– January 6, 2023
Opening Reception: Friday, October 7, 2022
Pacific Grove Library
550 Central Avenue
Pacific Grove, CA
January 6, 2023, 5-7:30 PM Closing Reception
My Art Journey
I do not paint what is. I paint what if.
I went to art school. I also studied art at University of Iowa, Southeastern Community College, Monterey Peninsula College and various other classes and tutorials. Just like my personal life growing up and becoming me, art fundamentals were pounded into me. I have gone from creating 'a good likeness' to painting and creating what I see to where I am now. At this point, I paint and create what if.
As artists, we are are all evolving, hopefully. I am not interested in painting what most artists are creating. I create what is authentic to me. There are so many disciplines and approaches, each with their inherent merit, but I am not about being welded or dictated to as to what I am allowed to paint.
Currently, I create within a what appears to be a wider spectrum than most of the other artists I meet. I am not interested in being the seascape, floral, plein air, figure, portrait, insert category painter.
The best title for the stage I am in is what I call abstract fusion. A fusion of objective images within the strata of abstract expressionism. That is my current art zip code.
I do pay a significant amount of attention to focal points, contrast, texture and composition. I am drawn to personal expression and new ways of seeing.
The old adage, learn the rules before you break them, is playing out in my art. There is nothing I like more than entering my studio, picking out a canvas for my easel and playing with paint to see where it goes. Sometimes the art paints itself. Sometimes the canvas gets stubborn and passive-aggressive and challenges me. I curse and persist. I know what I need to do. Keep painting. These are the times I learn the most where I am forced out of my ever evolving comfort zone to consider fresh approaches. I make a lot of missteps. I curse again to ward of the beast of lack of self confidence. I consider all my mark making tools. I scrape, paint over, sand away, scratch away, brush away, wash away, add a new area and keep at it until I win the wresting match with my muse.
I am pleased to say I usually win because I hate mediocrity and failure. I will not settle for anything less than something I consider archival and worthy of museums and art history books.
This is not arrogance. It's my attempt to shoot for the sun to land on the moon. It's my attempt at immortality, a legacy to justify the challenge of a personal life on planet earth.
I hope you enjoy my work. Grazie!
In the Beginning
Rewind my life to age five. A naive boy living with a obsessively religious mother and grandmother along with my father who wanted nothing to do with it. I had a sister, but that's another story.
In hindsight, I was trapped in an abusive situation. Hellfire and brimstone were daily reminders. The end of the world was mentioned throughout each day. "If you don't behave and repent you will go to hell for an eternity. You will yell and scream for the rocks and cliffs to fall on you to kill you to take away the pain, but you will keep burning forever."
Who would raise a child like that? A bipolar schizo-effective other and her equally unbalanced mother would. Her manipulative mother would.
Int. Kindergarten class. Day
The teacher set us all in front of an easel and large sheet of paper. We are instructed to paint something. No other direction, just paint something. Everyone is painting flowers and other objects.I carefully paint the entire large sheet of paper entirely red.
When everyone is finished, the teacher asks me to hurry up and finish. I inform her I already finished it. She laughs and asks "Okay, what is it?"
Me: It's the end of the world and all you can see is fire.
The teacher ridicules me in front of the whole class. The word that stands out in my memory from her public humiliation of me is "Ridiculous!"
An artist is born. A five year old creating conceptual art and all she can relate to is the word 'ridiculous..'
It may come as no surprise we spent a lot of time in church. To survive the oppressive boredom, I drew the people in the pews sitting around me and showed them to the rest of family on the way home. It was great entertainment for all of us since I exaggerated facial features with a caption. I think my sister enjoyed them the most. But everyone got a good laugh.
Art was my tool for survival, my savior. While everyone else was pretending to pay attention and singing hymns, I was worshipping Saint Paper and Pencil.
And the Lord smite me not.