Work in progress. This is 32″x72″ piece to be donated to St. Stephen’s Church in Coconut Grove. I will discuss how it came to be later. First let me discuss the elements of the piece.
St. Stephen was the first martyr of what was forming as the Christian church. He was murdered somewhere around 34AD in Jerusalem. According to historians, at the time the Greek speaking Hebrews were at odds with the Hebrews native to Israel. They (the Greek-speeking Hebrews) felt they weren’t getting their fair share of the social welfare work being done in the city. The original apostles were stretched too thin and so they decided to hand select a group of “deacons” to oversee the effort. Continue reading “St. Stephen”
The young lady who purchased this piece, Abi, asked about its back story. Abi, since the story is so rich, I have chosen to share it on this forum. I hope this works for you.
Three. Three is the threshold for self/spiritual/knowledge. Three is important because it brings dimension. Two is a dyad. Something is hot or cold or somewhere in-between. When we reference the world, particularly the spiritual world in the triad (as opposed to the dyad) we begin to find insight.
Body/Mind/Spirit. Ego/Id/Superego, Father/Son/Holy spirit…these high concepts can only begin to be explained in threes. In each case, each is a part of the whole, but, not the whole. Perhaps the most direct explanation is he mystery of Christianity. One God, three parts. It is an extremely difficult idea to get one’s arms around. Continue reading “Three Buddha”
Well, even I must stop now and then to give myself a bit of kudos…. Several years ago I was involved is designing and constructing the interior and exterior of a a coffee shop named Rev in Smyrna, GA. Specifically, 1680 Spring Rd SE Ste B (at Jonquil Dr), Smyrna, GA 30080. Originally, it was a automotive repair garage, we morphed it into a coffee shop that has been operating successfully for a number of years now.
On January 20, The Huffington Post announced it was THE “best place for coffee” in the state of Georgia! The article was picked up by the Atlanta Journal/Constitution and cited “Foursquare users site the coffee (duh), quiche and bacon and cheddar muffins, as well as the atmosphere, as reasons Rev ranks so highly.”
I don’t make muffins and I don’t make coffee, but, I did make the atmosphere. (Also if you look closely at the first picture below, you will see my artwork for sale).
So, there you go….. Thank you for indulging me and my ego.
So how do you know when you are dreaming. A dreary day. Sunday at the Peter Anderson Arts Festival in Ocean Springs, MS… Steady drizzle. Cool weather.
What you don’t see is the dreamy part. Directly behind me is the show organizer, two hours earlier she asked me to come to the main stage because “I had won an award” but she wouldn’t say what it was for. Earlier in the day, my wife noted that they only gave out an limited amount of awards…four I think… Anyway, I was surprised at best.
I wandered around for 15 minutes until I found the stage. A rather talented slide guitar player was entertaining twenty or so fans all huddled under an EZ Up tent in the middle of a field. I asked the man working the sound if I was in the right place. He assured me I was.
The drizzle left no where to “be.” I sat in a folding chair and immediately noticed it was a lot wetter than it looked. (Now my ass was sopping wet.) Several speeches later, they came to announce the awards. I remember hearing “Best of Show” then a seemingly long pause. Then the young woman (the show organizer) said my name.
I was floored.
I was summoned to the front of the stage, where I was handed the extremely large plaque I am holding. In front of me are a battery of photographers using a plethora of devices such as iPads, iPhones and alike. Not a camera in sight. However, each beckoned my attention.
Not being able to turn around, I heard a voice in my ear. It was the judge. She was gushing over how much she enjoyed my work. Unbeknownst to me was her identity. I could feel her hair touching mine, I felt the cold air and the drizzle that was falling horizontally with the wind, but, I had no idea who was talking with me. Dreamy huh?
Later a fellow award winner sent me this photo. I think it is the woman in the orange ski vest that I owe my gratitude to?
I don’t know, but I was struck with the idea that perhaps dreams prepare us for the unworldly, unexpected things that happen in life. I don’t know, I’m just sayin….
From Brian Eno, 1993
In the 18th and 19th centuries people were ‘taking the waters’ for a wide variety of illnesses. By this time the scientific medical establishment was quite well developed, and careful records were made of the patients’ conditions, their treatments and their progress. This documentation was made by doctors of good character and reputation: their work in other areas substantiates this. They were interested to discover what special properties spa waters had, and why the cures were so often effective. They failed in this, and the search for the curative agents was gradually abandoned, on the assumption that whatever special balance of minerals the waters contained was too subtle for the instruments of the day to register.
Modern instruments are much more sensitive, but they reveal (again and again) that there is no consistent difference between spa water and other kinds of water. It’s just water, exhibiting the natural variability of that substance. The effect of this non-discovery (the repeated failure to identify any special properties in spa water) diminished interest in water cures, which anyway by the late 19th century were going out of fashion. But it left unanswered a question, which seemed to be this: ‘Were those doctors of the 18th and 19th century wrong in either their observation or their reporting, or was there really something in the water?’
A possible solution appeared a few years ago. It was discovered (a surprise result of space exploration) that prolonged periods of weightless-ness have the effect of precipitating out heavy metals from the body. Heavy metals are mostly toxic. Space travellers return to Earth with less of them (and therefore less toxicity) in their systems. Now think back to ‘taking the waters’. Remember that these cures were of very long duration: typically you might remain in the water several hours a day for several weeks or months. In water, of course, you approach weightlessness. Could it be that ‘taking the waters’ is a way of cleansing the body of heavy-metal toxicity? Continue reading “Miraculous cures and the canonization of Basquiat”
Use the arrows to advance slides.
The headlines are throwing me for a loop. The one thing you would expect from a Nobel Peace Prize winner is, well, peace… Not so fast.
In 1969 John and Yoko offered a solution, an alternative, a simple idea…Give Peace a Chance. There has not been a day of peace since then in my life. Peace has never gotten its “chance.”
The latest straw was a bunch of union thugs acting as protesters for “climate change.” Movie stars, musicians, celebrities, politicians, and other ne’er do wells flew in on private jets, the so called protesters left mountains of trash and hardest of all, when asked why they weren’t protesting the new military initiatives in Syria, the response was they were “burned out.” Protesting is just another job I guess, everybody needs a small vacation. The environment can’t cry out at the hypocrisy. On to page two in the news.
It wasn’t always like that. A simple idea like peace used to carry water. People used to actually care.
I guess the bottom-line is there is more money in making bullets than making art. Both sides have got to get that stuff from somewhere. Democrats and Republicans agree on it.
As an artist, what is left? We can’t rely on the media, they are totally indifferent. Naked pictures of celebrities are more important than death in the desert. Most people get their news from the mouths of comedians. Talking heads make millions. Does anybody care?
Art. Art. Art. All we are left with is making “peace bombs.” Art is the other end of the spectrum from war. Guernica never killed anyone, it only reported on killing. The only way for peace to ever get its chance is in a painting, a sculpture, a small thing of beauty, a respite from the madness of the world.
I mean, what is the point of saving the earth if it only to be populated by vicious killers?
How Food Stole the Avant-Garde: Letter From Copenhagen
Good morning. I am sitting here wondering if one of those man-on-the-street, horseback research studies would show that people are more aware of “pop” chefs than of contemporary “artists.” I would love to go around and ask a dozen people to name a living artist…
Balance this with the phenomenon of the investment folks make in tattoos…they pay top dollar for a small image to be permanently put on their bodies, yet are reluctant to purchase wall art?
Just food for thought.