here we go ...

response to Super Bowl adverts ...

"here we go" ...

sure echoes the Bush/Rumsfeld battle cry - "Lets Roll"

looks like bud lite becomes the lubricant for collective stupidity and the beverage of choice for the Sarah Palin popularity campaigns ...

and i always enjoy the 'we' and 'lets' configuration - if one person behaved as the commercials go - they'd look a little nuts - but more than one, and we've got unanimity - which also creates anonymity for the likes of tea-baggers, birthers, bigots and idiots ... which says something about how the standards have been lowered for team players - and the fact that the networks and NFL turn their back on it for revenues ...

it's all about catch phrases and branding - and like i said yesterday - i'm concerned about literacy - or the lack thereof - and something about the bud lite and jim beam booze commercials that help promote deceit [rent-a-dog, get-a-girl ads] and collective stupidity that bother me - and even the cute, little insurance gecko who knows damn well what happened to his bosses first buck, or the allstate guy with a trusting face who played a black president on one of those mini-series tells you that he could make breaking up easier - or the doritos guy in a casket committing some kind of fraud at the expense of mourners - it all gets promoted through something these corporate giants think we need - screw truth in advertising - that almost doesn't seem to matter anymore since it seems anyone will do anything for a cheap thrill or a laugh - and the more sensational, risque, or scary - all the better ...

in my mind, i montaged a couple of commercials from the "here we go" ads and the upcoming movie that says "something has changed" - showing previews for "the crazies" ...

anybody have Nero's fiddle transcriptions?

this too, will pass ...

same place - different day ...

sunday morning, and an entirely different set of circumstances - a cloudless, azurite-grey sky - yellow-gold, dawn sunlight playing high-contrast shadows across a near perfect blanket of freshly fallen snow - except for the trails left by high-volume nocturnal traffic close to the forest edge - which could have something to do with the carrots, corn, celery, and potatoes i left yesterday ...

and the branches of the trees, with the absence of any breeze make the forest look like a photograph - having been out already, even the westerlies don't seem to prevail - it must be God's day off - or maybe He's gone to the super bowl - or trying to get far enough away from it to avoid working overtime ... i stopped trying to guess what's in the mind of God a long time ago - but we do jest and test ...

yesterday's archetypal weather panic is gone as well - obviously a day to savor the beauty - so i'll start with a triple espresso, a Marlboro, and the Sunday NY Times - paint can wait for a little while ...

the coffee kicked in hours ago and i've been going about the business of art with due-diligence most of the day - with a few minor distractions - a pleasant one being a visit from long-time friend and fellow band mate [Absentee Ensemble]; the writer - Rick Dee ...

on many levels, we 'get' each other - he loves NYC - has a condo on the upper west side for most of his adult life - but his creative side always finds its way back to the countryside of PA where there's less distraction and the kind of beauty that feeds his soul - he too, is a minor casualty of Bush economics, corporate down-sizing, and middle-age disposability - too young for rank and file tenure, and too old to be coerced into pouring blood for low wages - and though he still has his condo, he's been edged into subletting; living in PA, and commuting to Jersey for gainful employment while periodically escaping to 'the city' for his urban fix - but it all seems to roll off him with a stoic acceptance comparable to that of a Benedictine Monk, or at least an artist hell-bent on avoiding diversions ...

i sometimes get the point of things the wrong way around - like when friends say they've appreciated the regularity of my journaling, or they didn't know i was 'that involved' with photography, or that i can write more coherently than i sometimes speak - to which i respond, "i've always done that" - and i have, with growing boxes of journals, sketches, and photographs that have followed me for decades - then i have to wonder 'what the hell took them so long to get it' - until i recognize what's different ...

the right tool for the right job at the right time - something my father used to try to instill in me - but it's true; over the year i got a new MacBook, a digital slr camera, a compact movie camera, and actually took the time to learn them - which must be getting easier, because the encyclopedic manuals are getting smaller - but that's it - i'm plugged into the 21st century, and i like it ...

but there's some things i can't or don't want to change [and they may find their way here] - like writing long-hand with a pen on paper - with sketches - the smell of paper, and the sound of the pen chicken-scratching through ideas, and all the thoughts conjured while doing it; like the memories of my grandmother and mother encouraging me to practice penmanship at the kitchen table to avoid getting smacked on the knuckles with a ruler by the Nuns, while they cooked dinner on a Sunday afternoon and had animated Lithuanian discussions - or trying to get the sound of the pen to mimic their phonetics while maintaining legibility - or recalling my first art teacher's [and my] satisfaction when the connect was made between what i saw and the way my pen moved to prove it - so far, the pen remains much mightier than any device Steve Jobs has come up with - but i am learning the tools of today's trade ...

so much used to be done for approval - from family, to friends and peers, clients, etc. - but as my discussion with Rick went today - we do what we do because we have to - for the love of it - and like i said to him - whether it sells or not, i'm like the fireman sitting on the chair outside the volunteer fire station - i show up every day because you never know ...

literacy in america concerns me, but i'm sure those fears will fade if i tune in to the 'big' game tonight ...

labyrinths ...

what a wimp ...

yes, the snow, or blizzard, or inconvenience is beautiful from my drafting room window - and its warm and cozy indoors, and there's plenty of provisions, paint, work to do, some unheard cd's, books, magazines - but i shudder to think of facing the elements and shoveling out the vehicles or a path to the mailbox - and to think 'untold ancestors staked their genes on me' ...

a hearty people from Lithuania, Austria, northern, and eastern Europe - where this would be considered a mild day ...

i remember as a kid, spending hours outside on days like today, building forts and complex networks of tunnels - which i'm sure my parents saw as tell-tale signs of problems to come -

but it was fun - until being introduced to civility and self interest where most things simply become a distraction from personal ambitions ...

so today, i'm going to take my cues from Eve [the most wonderfullest terrier in the entire known universe], and tail-wag my way outside for a while to recapture some of those ancestral vibes - or try ...

got to remember - 'it ain't the heat, it's the humidity' - or something like that ...

"that wasn't so bad" - [as Rocky said when Clubber Lang(aka Mr.T) was pulverizing him] - until i had to lean into a 30 mph wind while shoveling the drive - i fear my face is frozen to a grimace - even Eve had one of those quizzical, 'what are you nuts?' looks, like other species often do - and in a forest usually teaming with wildlife, it was void of activity except for the creaking of trees from a frigid, arctic blast - but hey, it was exhilarating - [thank you ancestors] - and as i thaw i can feel a smile through chapped skin and joy bubbling when i pass by 'logos' ...

time for paint ...

logos in progress ...

not pousette dart ...

dawn on the art farm ...

zone systems ...

i know i'm not light deprived - at least not sunlight [had that test years ago] - and though i love the neutrality of grey days like today - i'm starting to have those longings for the light and color and warmth of spring ...

all this being said on the eve of what promises to be a snowy weekend here in the northeast - and once it comes, it will be beautiful - but for now, just a little left of neutral and heart-broken for the hardships of some family and friends - including a lady friend, a tortured soul who committed suicide yesterday - obviously confronted with something bleaker than grey ...

made some advances on "logos" over the past two days, and what i'm enjoying about the shift in approach is the challenge it brings - dialogues with a canvas throughout the day - night, and well into dreamland - it woke me this morning about 4:30 needing brushes with quinacridone gold and orange - i accommodated - she dried - and by then it was too perplexing to look for sleep again - but that's what raising a painting is all about ...

free-floating serenity ...

time and time again, when i'm not doing something creative, i have to remind myself to stay in the moment - call the next play - do the next 'right thing' - and don't assume the future ...

that's why i mentioned previously that i need to spend a little more time meditating - it focuses the mind on the present and carries positive residuals throughout the day - in the 'perfect world' ...

i've got this tendency to create uneasiness by not putting one foot in front of the other - and of course, i get tripped up and feel off balance - you can only be where you are ...

could also have something to do with not sleeping well, certain financial and domicile uncertainties, and family members being in poorer health than myself without clear prognosis - a lot of stuff to cause a lack of sure-footed-ness - if i stray ...

stay on point - time to paint, file, and muse'ic ... later ...

day flew by - been happening a lot lately - ?

got an email from the writer, Joel Weishaus - an old friend from the New Mexico days - a monthly thing, without fail - the next five texts and images from his "Gateless Gate" series - always a fascinating and heady read - his research is impeccable and the way he sculpts ideas always fires the imagination - take a look, please!

speaking of sculpting - a Giacometti went for 105 million today - a few dollars of which he could have probably used while he was alive - but then again, can't we all ...

and speaking of surrealism - with this Lymes, my energy vanishes around 2 or 3 each day which requires a cat-nap - after waking, i'm in a stupor or half-sleep, as Breton called it, till about 7 - which makes late afternoons pretty serene ...

worked on "logos", but not much to show today ...

bamboo, phthalo green, blue ...

good day - snow, paint, more paint ...

i'm pleased to announce that Palgrave Publishers is going to use my work on the cover of a new book by Dr. Gillian Howie entitled: "Between Feminism and Materialism" - isn't the first time, but they'll be featuring the work more prominently - also Malibu Complete, a web page featuring Malibu, Ca - linked my music/slide show: "Zuma" to their page ...

outsider, part one ...

it was only a few decades ago that the pulse of what was going on in the ‘art world’ was marked by seasonal trends in New York’s Soho - grand-slam, celebrity artists - Minimalism, Earthworks, Neo-Expressionism, Graffiti, Neo Geo - Serra, Schnabel, Salle, Kiefer, Scharf, Haring - off West Broadway, and off-off West Broadway, [Tribeca, Alphabet City, Times Square, Union Square, Noho, and Chelsea] etc.

the continuity of European Art History was revived and proliferated in New York after the art centers’ displacement during WWII - infused with new talent, discourse, media, and new money - it flourished and became not only the harbinger of intellectual and cultural change, but more importantly for America at that time, [with her predisposition for capitalism and grandiosity] - it became the repository for an over-productive liberal arts educational system that continued to lower standards for its’ own survival, and became a barometer for real estate development speculators interested in high-yield revitalization of America’s urban blight ... just follow the art ...

the Art Center flourished and reproduced itself faster than a super virus; migrating and adapting to every nuance of its host’s environment with the eventual result being ‘pluralism’ - a terminal diagnosis describing the entropy of unfocused, and unprincipled over-indulgence resulting in banal gentrification of a tradition of ideals in the Arts - grass-roots art meccas popped up everywhere under the guise of co-ops and 501 C3’s, providing culturing for everyone - and soon it became difficult to determine where the center was and what was the prevailing urgency ...

or as Yeats describes; “things fall apart; the centre can not hold”...

until of course, the advent of the personal computer; which coagulated narcissism in the form of worldwide entanglements that provided immediate gratifications and de-personalized socialization - and then, personal domains based on branding and misinformation rather than substance ...

soon, everyone was an artist or celebrity of some sort ...

the next ‘big thing’ could be found anywhere - everywhere, and the only necessary validation was repetition, sales, and exposure comparable to the numbers advertised on fast food marquis’

and what would once require the squandering of trust funds, inheritances, and government entitlement programs for involvement in the ‘art centers’, could now be accomplished with pre-packaged, media savvy, product development and placement for global consumption or targeted audiences ...

but wait a minute, there seem to be more ‘artists’ [and lawyers] now, than ever existed in the history of the world - at least by art historical records - could it be that we’re actually living in an unprecedented period of world-wide cultural enlightenment or did we miscalculate every brick layers genius and significance in the building of the pyramids ...

woops, back up to pre-pluralism - and the art dealing ‘authorities’ with their newly acquired art history - or even law degrees, who were able to fast-track careers with v.i.p. perks to an unsuspecting, and previously disenfranchised pool of investors with all the finesse and expertise of junk-bond brokers - and let us not to forget the attractive young interns of upwardly mobile fortune 500 companies who made off with client and mailing lists to lay the foundations for their own house of cards with newly graduated Ivy League artists who probably attended some of the same frat parties as the soon-to-be president, G.W.Bush ...

ahhh - these are the days that Andy Warhol dreamed of while marketing his career change from Madison Avenue advertiser to Main Street’s resurrection of art savior to all - the transfiguration from Bergdorf & Goodman to Walmart ... from Da Vinci and the ideals he propagated to Jeff Koons’ inflatables ...

theses are the good old days, but you have to wonder - where have all the 'real artists' gone, the art, the music - could the continuity of centuries of tradition and ideals become so diluted by manufactured inventions in fifty years that we’ve stopped looking for art, or are we still too dependent on where Madison Avenue directs our attention ...

it’s so un-cool to not tolerate banality - or search for the good in it ...

i think this is about to become a series of off-the-cuff entries that addresses some distresses amid the arts ...

p.s. I wrote this after reading a short article on Dr. Albert Barnes, inventor and art collector from PA - years ago i met one of his associates who told me about one of his 'art quest' trips to Paris before WWII ...

he visited Giacometti's studio and discussed some of the work being produced by other artists, who seemed to be impressed with a fellow name Soutine - but no one knew how to find him - eventually, after days of inquiry Dr. Barnes located the artist and purchased some of his paintings - the artist packed the paintings, took the profits, bought a fur coat for his girlfriend, and took a cab to Provence ... the rest is history ...

viola, primrose, and amethyst ...

beyond having to face a new cycle of bills, the new month brings another opportunity to apply what we've learned to a new set of opportunities - appropriate that 'ground hog day' would occur this month, but i've got to add - i have never seen one in February - never!

'februum' is old Latin for purification - and we're lucky February survived the final edit of roman calenders - they almost ignored it as a winter month that didn't matter ...

i dig it because, like November, it's transitional and often unpredictable - and it's my natal month with Pisces rising around the 18th - so viola, primrose, and amethyst for all ...

[now that sounds like a great palette] ... 7 a.m. and time to paint ...

back again at 5 p.m. - tedium and annoyance augmented by blasts of creative excitement is the best way to describe the day so far ...

i've been laying down some final glazes on large pieces in progress - finishing and detail work, which isn't the most exciting - and noticing, that when i'm working the 'fair weather studio' outside, less monotony occurs because there's plenty of room to keep everything flowing -

inside, i'm feeling cramped - afraid of splashing, bumping into things, waiting for the heating maintenance man to show up three hours late with no phone call after i rushed through morning traffic to buy some basic materials; trying to register a copyright on u.s. dot gov whose system seems to be overloaded, but they'll address any concerns i might have in two to three business days; the neighbor's beagle choir is unrelenting, waiting for call-backs that don't seem to happen, and the dj on Sirius Jazz seems to be schizophrenic or finds it's his only outlet to express his individuality at my expense - come on, bobby mcferrin scat singing after miles' "all blue" - where's the continuity ...

then i paint - and it's like none of it happened or matters - self-leveling for sure ...

dusk was as pretty as dawn - Pisces' colors found their way into 'logos', and i've got an idea for a piece of music - and at this point i'm tired enough to welcome the perfunctory tasks ...

it's all good ...