How I Write Such Beautiful Nonsense


 I began to understand things better as I got older not that that was all that helpful. Seems many people take the path of least resistence  like electric current no point in connecting with dead wires. However at some point in one's thinking the thought of self vanishing ( the most personal version of the end of the world) of the infinity of nothingness that lays before us. An urgency took hold of me as an artist as a young man in search of pony dancers and plain girls who have spent many hours in libraries and cooks of all descriptions. No one knows lonely like the lonely know lonely. Lonely art that goes unseen in museum storage for years and years. Piles of drawings books full to the bursting await some posthumous exposure, a book a slim volume on the art of Mssr Frank Gaard born in Chicago 1944, the birth nearly kills his mother. Staph infection in C-section wounds. Baby moi / Gaard boy was born with cord around neck 13 times, I always thought 13 times was suspicious because a noose has 13 knots. Be that as I may the cas e can be put forward that life is much more competitive than one suspects in school days however long you go to school which for some of us who taught school as well way too long! The thing Kierkegaard wrote that life can be better undertood backwards but we live it frontwards is still so true.  Our outcomes would be difficult to have predicted. Although for me art has almost always been in my life. Maybe to my own detriment, color has always held my attention. It seems like sound to have a form outside our control. It just pervades space as light or sound both do. Bright color has a cache it brings us to attention like big operatic sounds.

 New portrait of Jennie completed this week past. First portrait of 2013 - Painting commisioned by boyfiend for girlfriend's birthday. It's a wonderful painting , the color is very pretty but the likeness is slight maybe the hair and something in the gaze. It's a portrait that became a more important painting for me. More of a statement about form and color in portraits.  It has a presence as a bright trace of a woman posing someone happy to be in one of my portraits. These sorts of paintings are always about love his love the lover and his beloved and my love of painting. Can't beat that . Blogs unfold like serial literature tune in next time for more adventures in time travel and even more pictures and stories to help us make our way through the big forgetting.