sorry for the missing in action.
the team has been busy painting and keying in data.
at the opening of my show, i spoke to a bunch of people who had asked me about the work. i don't know if there's anything harder than having to try and explain in words, the very things i can't.
it's a funny thing in this art sling that it's the very lack of words that turns me to paint, but i have to derive from my paintings, words to explain them.
i often wonder how long someone looks at a painting before they turn to a show card, an advisor or "artist friend" to ask what it means.
the reason i've come to love art, and making things is the meditative and multiple universes it allows me to explore- things that really can't be summed up in a sentence (or few) or a cv.
what's inspiration if it's not in the specific turn of the stroke in painting?
there's a deep heritage in painting that's sometimes difficult to be translated to the abstract of letters.
it's something that must be felt, a language that i believe i won't truly grasp until this life becomes death.
there seems to be a resounding need to search for a grand scheme, but to me the gods are made up of the day to day.
we'll see the big picture when we learn to watch the dandelions turn.