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1 28 19 Grace in Remorse

I have just returned from an invigorating performance at Mulligan’s open mic. The focus of my lyrical improvisation was on the power of letting remorse into ones life with grace and serving power. I focus on Mr. Trump, as the government and wall situation should be the straw that finally gets the camel to shake of his load. But what if he found his own way to remorse? What a hero he could be if he were to face the gravity of his failures at leading the world. He does not represent a democracy by any logical or real interpretation of not only the word but of what that word means in the daily lives of the majority of the people the world contains.

What if he said to himself, “I had the money and power to take a chance at running the world and I got in over my head. This isn’t pro wrestling or  television drama. This is the life of the planet. I will step down in humility and try to rectify my mistakes by helping those in need from the fallout of my presidency with the resources I have. What a wonderful and powerful message he could send to the 1%, and to the world of the rest of us. Perhaps he sees green, not the shades he’s used to bud the shades that grow and nourish, and led an evolution of true clean energy.

What sort of energy or action would it take to turn this wishful thinking into a reality? What can each of us do as people to fuel that energy? I believe that acts of love and togetherness, and importantly, forgiveness, to allow even the most lost to find the best in themselves in service to Life, are the methods of truly righting the wronged. It is hard to find absolute forgiveness in the face of reactionary pain-causing. It is hard to forgive oneself, and that might be why it is so important for others to forgive those who need to forgive themselves the most. Death and polarity doesn’t serve the cause of life and harmony, and why wouldn’t we want to serve life?

As we move forward as people I pray we do so with forgiveness through love. It’s not to late for anyone, even the President.

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Today

Life is good. It evolves and love opens up opportunities. Chances and mystery keep life nourished. Art has gravity which increases with the passion of the Artist. We are all zooids in The collective organism that is Infinity. We all can benefit from connecting with our fellow cells. Holistic life is connected life. I am just very grateful to have a humble part in life. I am grateful humans can evolve their minds through Art and Music. I haven’t posted in a while. I am happy to be posting something again.

More Art and Music can be found on Facebook @Art4Truth

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Abstract Catalyst

I am parting in a juried show at the Verum Ultimum Gllery in Portland, OR entitled Abstract Catalyst and I am happy to involved. As I prepare to head up there for the opening, I reflect on what Abstract Catalyst means and how important it is. The idea of abstraction as a catalyst for the evolution of Art and indeed consciousness is a belief I have honored for some time. It is essential that Artists and viewers alike embrace the limitless potential Abstraction has to offer for stimulating neurons in different ways, causing subconscious responses that effect the deeper Mind, and a cultimation of universal harmony among life forms. Abstraction opens doors to worlds which do not adhere to our usual perceptions of reality yet call to us intimately on many levels. I wish the gallery and the show luck as we do our respective parts to bring the next evolution of Abstract forward into the world…

Nocturphysalis Toxaurum with details
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Summer flying, color changing

Colors move, always, as light moves always. Pallets of everything are infinitely variable, even if to our eyes colors can seem firm and even concrete in their singularities. A block of blue on a white canvas, for example, or even Klein Monochrome blue, is never that same blue even if it might look like it. Dim the lights, or raise and filter them, as nature does all the time, and that blue is different. And that light is not just affecting the intended color, it is bouncing off of and through all of the little micro particles in the air, trillions of them, and those are always moving and never the same way, altogether, twice. If light is what affects what we see, and its interactions with reality are never the same twice, then a person is looking at something different every time they look at anything.

We, of course, can’t see all the little things that go on in the air before our eyes, or all of the physical energies that flitter through it. Colors, in their infinitely variable existence, therefore group together to form colonial organisms, so to speak, that we call red, green, and so on. Families have orders, orders phyla and on t species, so we can have different relationships with colors and color forms in nature and space. For example, we can look at a river and see blue immediately, even if further focus reveals a myriad of other colors. But then that yields to blue greens, and cool whites, and subtle browns, and each of those vibrating down into their own macrocosm a prism of subtle dancing color energy. Clouds are white, to our consciousness, but then so much more, just like consciousness…

 

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On Composition

I think often about composition as the foundation of Art-making which wishes to exist for its own sake, beyond any image or idea, and exist at its fullest potential. Composition is a force, a will which an Artist taps into to create space through their work, timelessness. It is unlimited in its potential yet makes a clear distinction from work which does not employ it. This will, this energy, becomes a way of life to the composer, and shapes his or her vision of the world. It is not about rules of thirds, contrasts or or any one element of Art-making. It is about the fluidity of all of the elements working through and within each other.

Composition is a shamanistic trance, an astral stream of consciousness. Composition is the gravity of creation. And it is the essence of that about Art which evolves the human mind and spirit. It is the measure, balance, distribution and harmony of notes in any work which reaches beyond the surface image or idea, the core of Art for Art’s sake.

I speak with such fervor and extremes because, even if my proclamations are not absolute, they they fuel the imagination to see Art-making as service to a bigger picture. I feel a gracious humility when offering homage to the essences of Art, and honor that I am able to visually serve the cause. So I encourage others to see the elements of Art-making as the elements of the Universe, and explore the vast infinity of possibilities procured through service to composition for composition’s sake…

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A musing about Black

I am currently working on two pieces that are heavily rendered in black. Black is a color I like to use often in certain paintings. Some, thought bright with color and movement, are still existent within a black space or plane, or thee even. But when it comes to pieces that are not black dominant, I scarcely use the color at all.

I recall my old high school Art teacher being adamant that we do not mix black with colors to darken them, or to create depth and shadow. He insisted we learn that black, organic black seen in shadows and nature, is derived from a mix of complimentary colors, and other combinations. I stand by this, and teach it myself.

A person can learn so much about color mixing from experimenting with complimentary grays. But, black is a beautiful color in and of it, and is a useful mix color in same ways. For example, it makes a fantastic series of greens when mixed with yellows, and earthy browns when blended with orange. But as the answer to white, not so much. Colors are special when turned to Art, and have meaning beyond common contrasts and associations…

 

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Birds and Bees, if you please.

It is a beautiful morning here, as summer is chomping at the bit to be made official. I stepped outside in the early morning light, as the critters are starting on with their daily work. I checked underneath the lid of our toll storage bin, where yesterday I had covered and removed two hornet’s nests, and as I suspected, there was another. I will remove it soon, and move it to a more out of the way spot, even if less gently than I might if not wanting to get away from the angry critters as soon as possible. But, I give them a chance.

I am grateful that they eat bugs and worms that can destroy gardens, appreciative of their pollinating abilities, and, am even fond of their beauty and grace.  They have not bothered us, and even then I would be loath to kill them. Why? Is it not a gift of consciousness that we can look at these creatures, menacing in the pain they can cause us, and still see enterprising and amazing living things, who build elaborate homes from dirt and debris, and collectively feed and nature their young, and who elegantly move from flower to flower in a weave with wind and light? I feel more connected to live and love since I have stopped the casual or unconscious killing of anything.

As I turned around from the hornet’s nest, I saw, and certainly heard, a few or more fat black bumblebees, with small golden vests, working a tall and lovely flowering plant behind the house. My eyes immediately went to their legs, and sure enough, each had boots of bright red/vermillion pollen. I recalled a time, years ago when I was working as a beekeeper, seeing a bee with a parfait of violet and red pollen on its legs, and thinking it one of the most beautiful things I was lucky enough to have seen. They were a sight from a fantasy, theses buzzing and bouncing black bumblebee buddies, going about their business in a suit of black yellow and red.

Then, one of them removed itself from its labors on the flowers and flew towards me, buzzing threateningly back and forth in front of me for a moment and then returning to the flowers. It had all the menace of a playful kitten, and I was happy it took the time to notice me, though I became self-conscious of how my presence would affect their business, which I had no interest in disrupting. While I did get closer to some of the unoccupied flowers at one point, I was more alert about not disturbing them. Then, two flew past me in more or less a straight line and I realized I might be in their flight pattern home, so I moved away.

While looking at the legs of the bees, however, I had taken time to really admire the little white flowers that the critters were romping upon. I acknowledged that it was the bees that brought my attention to these flowers, and that I had not yet really taken the time to look at and appreciate them. Surrounded by small, arced white petals was a magenta center, almost fluffy and hair like. The color bold and magnificent against the white. Sprouting up from the dancing purple center were 6 or so bright orange/red/ fire-like stamen, again a contrast to the petals and the center. I marveled at these little color-verses, with small bits of bright green accenting further the harmony of contrasts. I am grateful to the bees for leading my mind and eyes to the flowers, even in my awareness that I did not think earlier to admire them.

All the while, birds are singing in the sun and letting the morning sound off fill the air. I was scarcely aware of it accept for that it filled my, and my awareness, with a natural comfort. At times, I marked out to the bird song, sort of waking up to it through my other reflections. There are many birds around our house, goldfinches and robins and crows, jays, sparkling starlings, chickadees, and more. Knowing that the bigger birds will terrorize and even eat the smaller birds does sadden the tune of the song, and sometimes make me wonder if in their cacophony are melodies of loss.

So many living things waking up and loving the sun. A squirrel rattled the fence as he hopped along the top of it. Mason bees, shiny yet unassuming, jaggedly flitting about the flora, countless little things whisping about. It wasn’t until I heard the clinging of dishware and then a sweeping broom that the other sounds of the morning slipped into my conscious perception of the natural symphony. I then heard cars from the nearby throughway, horn, though scant, and other sounds of machine and man. The colors did not fade any, the flowers did not fade and the insects did not droop away, but nonetheless I stirred, and came inside.

I have trouble with mornings sometimes, being inclined to the muses of night’s serenity. But this was a vibrant reminder that there is great inspiration in the early risings of nature even in the groggy eyes of a natural night owl. And again I am grateful for the morning, the day, and the beauty of Life.

Edit – I just moved the third hornet’s nest from under the lid of the storage bin. I think one of them may have been injured or worse in the transition. In the act, the critter seemed to get caught between the container and the cardboard I used to do the job. It happened very fast and I seemed unable to be able to prevent it. I am very sorry that I did any damage to the individual hornet or the collective. Is it so wrong that they have a quiet dark place to exist such as the storage bin? And yet, life. It has death in it, unavoidably. I nonetheless feel that if we do take time to acknowledge it, even in the cruder forms of life, and not be so dismissive and callous towards other things, it may open avenues of both spirit and imagination that could greater connect human life to the rest of life on this planet and even elsewhere…

 

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To finish a painting…

I signed a 36 x 48 inch painting today, one I started less than 3 weeks ago. For me, this is unusual, as my pieces tend to get thick and go through various metamorphoses over months or more. Its color theme, so to speak, is white among mixed warms and cools. It is a not thin/not thick automatist painting, with a compositional foundation in a large circular form integrated within the individual strokes. It is subtle but undeniable, physically; it is there within an otherwise field pattern of forms and squiggly lines and circles, melting subtly. It is important for the power of automatism, for the psychonautic value of Art painting, that the painting manifest itself subconsciously in the mind of the viewer.

With or without image or narrative content, the subtle compositional unity of the individual strokes manifests itself within each ascending level of composition, until the macro composition is unified with a single binding form or shape. In this approach, the more subtle the better, usually, for exercise of the mind.

There is something that happens to the eyes and mind when we are introduced to an environment, in this case a painting, which harkens emotions and sensations beyond our usual experience and therefore beyond words. When this happens without content, the mind is free form usual experience, as even dream-like surrealistic content or image involves the cognitive consciousness.

I believe that this can build to content and a branch of representational methodology, but the power of this approach to Artmaking comes from the effect of pure abstraction on the mind. In this painting, the abstraction has a pulse, defined by the aforementioned subtle circular foundation.

I decided to call this piece finished even though the ideas and opportunities specific to the piece itself are not fully explored. I view this method as one that requires a number of pieces taking a number of forward steps or alternate directions, each learning from the previous painting and the oneness of the group.

I wished this to be a 2 week and not a 2 year painting, though I was open to the idea if necessary, but continuing this piece might belie the compositional point that it makes, and some steps forward are  worth keeping for themselves. In a nutshell, the piece works, I feel ready to let it go, and confidant that it is an important piece to my efforts to contribute to Art at its core.

 

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Demonstrating Automatism

Yesterday evening, I conducted a painting demonstration for a dozen people at the Emerald Art Center. The focus was on how I paint pictures such as Automatist Landscape (pictured.) From the recent painting exhibit at the EAC came an interest in my method, heavily layered and textured paintings. Last night’s was the second of two demos, and I am grateful for all who attended. I think we all had a good time.

Will Paradis with his Automatist Landscape at the Emerald Art Center

It can be challenging to do what I do so naturally alone in a public forum, but I learned a lot and was able to start a couple of decent pieces. The process, and some much appreciated signs of affirmation and understanding when discussing the need for abstraction and the continued development of methods to dig into the core of Art, affirm my belief in the need for a greater Art consciousness in society at large as well as an impetus to do my own small part to help that happen.

Abstraction brings color and form together without mandated purpose or narrative force, but for the celebration of life, the life that color reverberates with its varied relations to other colors. Layering allows for compositional focus, freeing the Artist from the need to describe something, abstract or not, right away, and thus letting the painting develop through the organic joy of painting. Texture marks a break into the 3Drd dimension, bringing in light, shadow, and a parallax affected composition into the framework of painting., which can be layered indefinitely into sculpture. All of these elements can raise new questions about Art and its purpose, and  proclaim, through their collective affects on the human consciousness, the cultural necessity of further exploring Art.

I am continuously reminded of the beauty of thinking and the sublimity of imagination. I am wary of a future that deters thinking, even if that thinking means challenging cherished, longstanding ideas. Art, its purpose, its future, its capacity to affect humanity, should not be exempt from this. The more we question with understanding, rather than to challenge, the greater our collective bond to it can become. I believe automatism and this approach to painting does that by its nature, stroke to stroke. Without intent, every mark is a question, every note a new variable in an equation that ends, at least in my own work, only when the painting is signed, and sometimes beyond that. It is a way to paint beyond ego. In its capacity for both abstraction and representation, this method questions how we can see the world, as Art has always done. And, with the love and imagination of future Artists, always will.

Thanks again to the Emerald Art Center and for all of those who attended and helped with the demos!!!

The Demo Piece, TBC…

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A thought about Tyranutopias

I am listening to Huxley’s Brave New World while painting this afternoon and was compelled to stop and comment on dystopic visions. I for one often project hopes and mental constructions of utopia, a place where there is little dissention and disorder, rampant happiness and freedom of consciousness. But in all of mysterious ponderings of how any of these possibly positive evolutions of human existence I have to remember the variable that makes it so difficult, what also renders any tyranny based utopias inherently and perpetually disastrous, is that humans need free will. We need options, choices, and cannot, ultimately, be forced by other people into anything. Any attempt to indoctrinate through mandates and absolutes, without the consideration of each and every individual consciousness, even if benevolently intended and practiced, is counterintuitive to the nature of consciousness itself.

However, it does not mean that we are helpless to enact large social change aimed towards individual growth and social harmony together. Peaceful influence, patience, understanding, forgiveness. If humanity is meant to flourish beyond the tyrannies that keep a tiny percent clinging for dear life to hoarding the world’s resources, we need to do so be encouraging as much good behavior and lifestyle choices as possible, and by treating those who could be perceived as our enemies with love. If we use tyranny and violence against the tyrannical and violent we are not changing anything, we are just continuing the cycle which has damned the human legacy.

We can envision a distant utopia where children are raised collectively and indoctrinated with codes and mores but in a way that fosters each child’s connection to consciousness. To make a direct reference to Brave New World, instead of playing hateful and suggestive stimuli to children while they sleep, why not discover the stimuli which most positively and un-invasively stimulates their sleep and dreams? Maybe the evolution and even assimilation of people into a harmonized symbiotic organism comes from a greater connection to the subconscious and dream realms.

Maybe, instead of worrying about classes and segregation, we can give all children a collective chance and nurture each of them in to their best selves while they develop.  I believe in Utopia, but I also believe it as an aspiration, a lifestyle. The ends do not justify the means, they are the means. Freedom via murder is murder. Freedom via freedom is freedom. Ok, enough of this for now. Thanks, Aldus…