This oil painting was , for me, an explosion of a new freedom I found after finally getting a home nearly 40 years ago, a room with a sink and a bed and a window. I hadn't painted for years, and never without extreme self-consciousness. But years of homelessness changed me and my appreciation of "art". That freedom eludes me these days, that 'ignorant' notion that I can do whatever comes to me. I'd love to get it back. Surely it's in us all. It may be better to paint to be satisfied than to paint to satisfy...
Starring The Beach Boys: Good Vibrations (1967). Featuring Joy Division's Unknown Pleasures (1979). Let me tell you a story about a tragic genius ahead of his time. About a songwriter who wrote his songs on a piano situated in a sand box. About a musician combining a variety of tapes to create this carefree beach sound. About a man who was afraid of the audience and who broke down under the pressure. Tricolor linoprint using one lino plate. June, 2020.
I did this drawing weeks ago and loved how it turned out, I used Copic markers, Microns, white gel pens, and Ohuhu markers. I did the sketch a different day then the coloring so I could take time to think about what colors I'd use in the artwork.
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Patron Saint of Lost Keys and Small Things.
Reminded me of this poem by Elizabeth Bishop.
One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
A bonsai tree sits in a black pot against a bright yellow circular background with humorous text surrounding it. The words "Why aren't they called... Bonsai People?" suggest a playful twist on the terms little person, person with dwarfism or person of short stature.
