Redtree Times

In the Gardens of Glory– Now at West End Gallery

And one of the things I find most moving is the way people with infirmities manage to embrace Life, and from the cool flowers by the wayside reach conclusions about the vast splendour of its great gardens. They can, if their souls’ strings are finely tuned, arrive with much less effort at the feeling of eternity; for everything we do, they may dream. And precisely where our deeds end, theirs begin to bear fruit.

–Rainer Maria Rilke, Diaries of a Young Poet (1898-1900)

Rilke seems to always hit the mark for me. His thoughts and verse often serve as jumping off points for my imagination. That is sort of the idea in the entry above from his diary written when he was a young man, that our dreams and imaginings are often richer and more real than reality itself.

That jumping off point for our dreams and imagination almost certainly applies to the art we see, the songs we hear, the poetry and literature we read. Each is in itself one thing, one reality. But it also multiplies into a variety of realities and meanings via the dreams and imaginings it spawns within us.

For example, a simple, colorful painting may be just what it is.

A rose is a rose is a rose.

But in our minds, there are no limits as to what that rose might represent for us or where it might lead our thoughts and dreams. A single red rose might send our minds to glorious gardens of flowers of all colors and shapes.

For my work, while it may be just what it is to some, I hope it also serves as jumping off point for those others whose soul strings are finely tuned, to use Rilke’s words.

That being said, today and tomorrow are the last days of The Jubilee Dance, this year’s edition of my annual exhibit at the West End Gallery. Hope you get a chance to stop in and see it.

Maybe you could use a jumping off point of your own today.

Here’s a song that I feel both applies to this short post and is appropriate for this Veteran’s Day. It’s Imagine from John Lennon. At this moment in reality, it is sometimes difficult to imagine a world without war, greed, or hatred. We’ve come to accept these things as who and what we are. Inevitabilities. That is nothing more than a lack of imagination.

Dare to dream. Dare to follow your imagination.

Dance Me to the End of Love— Now at West End Gallery

And what avails it that science has come to treat space and time as simply forms of thought, and the material world as hypothetical, and withal our pretension of property and even of self-hood are fading with the rest, if, at last, even our thoughts are not finalities, but the incessant flowing and ascension reach these also, and each thought which yesterday was a finality, to-day is yielding to a larger generalization?

–Ralph Waldo Emerson, Circles (1841)

In thinking about what to write this morning about the upcoming end to my current show– which takes place this Thursday– at the West End Gallery, I thought of this painting, Dance Me to the End of Love, that is included in the show. I have always seen a sense of finality in it, a coming to endness, if that’s a word.

It’s not sad or gloomy. Instead, it is simply a natural end to all paths, one that all things in this world must reach.

But more than that, it only represents the end of the path, not total finality.

There is no total finality.

With this in mind, I came across the passage above from Emerson’s 1841 essay, Circles. He basically writes that all we feel is finality continues onward, that there is constant flow of all things. In that essay, he also writes:

The eye is the first circle; the horizon which it forms is the second; and throughout nature this primary figure is repeated without end. It is the highest emblem in the cipher of the world. St. Augustine described the nature of God as a circle whose centre was everywhere, and its circumference nowhere.

The circle never ends.

Bear with me here as this is the quick, two-cent version of a thought. Emerson’s words and my own interpretation made me think about how as we go through life our paths often seem to narrow as Time seems to be coming to a point of finality. And that is what I saw in this painting– our perception of our path coming to an end.

But to bring in Emerson’s thought, I also see it not as a finality. I see the path narrowing to a finite point where it then expands to the infinite, represented here by the expanding sky. As a result, it is a painting that has an air of joy in that perception of finality.

Like I said, this is the two-cent version. Hell, it might not even be that. Just riffing a bit this morning as my show winds down at the West End Gallery on Thursday. It’s been a good show in many ways, one of which I am somewhat proud. As proud as someone filled with great uncertainty can be.

And that’s good enough for me this morning.

Here’s a blast of 90’s rock/pop that deals with endings and new beginnings, as seen in its parting line: Closing time, every new beginning
Comes from some other beginning’s end.

This is Closing Time from Semisonic.

It’s closing time here, as well, so you best git...

“Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.”

–Charlotte Whitton, Former Mayor of Ottawa, Canada (1963)

That statement from Charlotte Whitton, from a 1963 profile in Cananda Month magazine, is right on the money.

It is definitely not difficult for capable women to do things twice as well as men, especially the mediocre men who have somehow found their way to the top of so many state governments, not to mention the clods currently running the federal government.

Check out the image at the top for one example. It captures this election in a nutshell.

We just have to do away with the idea that even then they are still half as good.

I think we are on the way to doing just that.

I was truly excited to see the number of women, especially women of color, who won major offices in this election. Gina Hinojosa in Texas, Dr. Amy Acton in Ohio, Keisha Lance Bottoms in Georgia, Annie Andrews in South Carolina, Deb Haaland in New Mexico, and on and on, up and down the ballot.

I have no doubt that each will do twice as well as their predecessors. Probably three or more times as well. All are strong, capable, focused on the job at hand, and already veterans of fighting the uphill battle that is discrimination.

I, for one, am ready to give them their due now and even more so when they inevitably succeed.

Here’s a song that was huge hit for Cyndi Lauper covered here by my current musical obsession, Ren with The Big Push, the band with which he still sometimes tours, in legendary street busking session– the Red Suspender session– from a few years back. There are a number of great videos of covers and originals from this session on the streets of Brighton. I envy those lucky folks who came on this performance. The band and the crowd seem to be having fun. As it should be.

The Hallelujah Garden— Now at the West End Gallery

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool ya
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

–Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah (1984)

Wow. Quite a week.

Quite. A. Week.

Of course, the highlight was an election with results that have the potential to affect real change in this country. Real change, something other than the cyclical change that comes with elections normally where each side takes turns holding power. The results this time were of the sort that is a true mandate, an aggressive demand for change that is systemic. Change that puts an end to the rampant corruption, cruelty, racism, misogyny, and criminality that currently permeates the highest levels of our government.

But as I wrote, it has the potential.

The real work is ahead.

This blue wave has to bear fruit that is palatable, plentiful, and absolutely apparent for the American people. It must be laser-focused on both the needs of the American people and in holding those who are in the process of vandalizing this nation accountable.

It has to yield hard results and hold them up for all to see so that there is no doubt that change is at hand.

It may not be easy over the next two years but, as I say, the potential is there. It is a mission that must not fail.

But this week, like so many people who chose to take on this potential, I am still in the afterglow.

With that in hand, I was in Corning yesterday morning for my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery. It was a full house and a great crowd. Seriously. Just a wonderful group of folks with many familiar faces and many faces I did not yet know. All in all, their closeness and warmth created an atmosphere that made me feel at home, allowing me to share details of my journey that I seldom disclose.

I think it made for a very special talk.

I don’t say that lightly. If you have read this blog for very long, you know how self-critical I can be after any interactions during these events. Oh, I can find a lot of things to criticize in yesterday’s talk, things I said that I would change, given the chance. But I think the overall tone and the interactions shared overshadowed any clumsiness or stumbles on my part.

Driving home yesterday, I found myself for once not beating myself up for my mistakes and missteps. Like the days after this week’s elections, I instead felt a warm afterglow of relief and joy.

A hallelujah moment.

I cannot be more appreciative for those who allowed me that moment. To everyone who was able to make it to yesterday’s talk, especially those who traveled a fair distance to be there, I offer you my humblest thanks. You made whatever was special yesterday possible. To Jesse and Linda Gardner at the West End Gallery I thank you for everything. Everything.

Okay, I am going to enjoy this afterglow for a bit longer this morning. After that I am back to work. There’s much to be done, both in  my studio and across the country.

Let’s do it.

Here is a favorite song from Leonard Cohen, his classic Hallelujah, and one of my favorite performances of it from k.d. lang. Along with Cohen’s original version, hers and the Jeff Buckley version, are off in the ether for me. This performance of the song at the 2010 opening of the Calgary Olympics is truly a spectacle, both for her vocals and the setting in a packed stadium with a crowd enraptured by the moment.

A moment of perfection. A hallelujah moment.

Joy in Every Dimension— At the West End Gallery

Communication leads to community — that is, to understanding, intimacy, and the mutual valuing that was previously lacking.
Community can be defined simply as a group in which free conversation can take place. Community is where I can share my innermost thoughts, bring out the depths of my own feelings, and know they will be understood.

—Rollo May, Toward New Community – Power and Innocence (1972)

It’s Saturday, November 7, which means that in very few hours I will be heading off to Corning for my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery. It begins at 11 AM but, as the gallery has been stressing over the past week or so, it is suggested that you arrive early in order to make sure you get a seat. The doors open at 10:30 AM.

I chose the passage from the late existential psychologist Rollo May (1909-1994) to open this blog entry because the idea that communication and free conversation lead to community is one that appeals to my sensibilities. I like to think of these Gallery Talks as being about conversation more than lectures or monologues and I believe they do, in some way, create a sense community in those spaces where they take place. I know that in these talks, especially when they inevitably move to more Q&A and conversation, provide a space and sense of community where, as May wrote, I can share my innermost thoughts, bring out the depths of my own feelings, and know they will be understood.

I think that’s a big deal for anyone. I know it is for me since I tend to share a great deal of my life experiences, good and bad, in these talks. Maybe more than most people would feel comfortable in doing themselves. But those experiences, emotions, and perceptions are the basis for my work. Grist for the mill.

Seeking the Design– You Could Win This Painting!

I hope that those of you who can make it to the Gallery Talk later this morning can feel some sense of community. I appreciate the opportunity to share this time and space with you, to exchange some thoughts with you, and to express my gratitude, something I do in both words and in more material terms.

By that, I mean that there is a free drawing at the end of the talk for one of my paintings, Seeking the Design, shown here on the right. I am just going to leave that as the baseline for what will take place the end of the talk, but you can be sure that there will be some more substantial surprises on this front for those who can make it to the talk. As I mentioned in recent days, the events of this week may have made me a bit more generous than usual.

Hope you can join our little community this morning and find out if that’s true.

NIghtFlare- At West End Gallery

Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful.

–Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890)

Sitting here this morning with a distracted mind. I am trying to write this while at the same time attempting to think of what I might say at the Gallery Talk that I am giving at the West End Gallery. Mixed in are several things weighing on my mind, things that must be done before tomorrow morning as well as the presence of a very large commission that has been dominating my time this past week.

I am at a point with this large painting, which I will write about in the near future, where I am in sight of completion and everything is coming together. Being pulled away for the next couple of days, even for the best of reasons, is killing me.

That’s just how my mind works, which might be the subject of tomorrow’s talk. While I can’t say for certain how my mind actually works, I know that uncertainty and sometimes desperation, even hopelessness, create the focus in it that allows me to work. It’s an uncertainty in myself and of the world and a desperation for some sense of direction and order that allows something to emerge from the mist and miasma of the chaos I often sense in this world.

The question is: How do you talk about that with a group of folks, many who are total strangers, and make it sound reasonable and not insane? 

I don’t know that there’s an answer there. Probably good that there isn’t. I would probably reject it because that knowledge would take away the uncertainty I need in order to be able to stand up there in front of them. That’s why the short passage above from Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray rang true for me.

There is something exciting, even thrilling, sometimes in not knowing where things are going or how they will turn out. I have felt this often in my painting. If I know exactly how things are going to end up on the surface, I question why I am painting that piece in the first place or how I can change its direction so that that certainty is erased.

Taking away the safety net is sometimes a necessary thing in creating something.

Which is also true for my gallery talks. I sometimes come in with notes and an idea of what I want to talk about but more often than not, they are quickly discarded as the talk finds its own center for myself and the audience. Like painting, it feels almost a creative performance, which is how I have described my painting process– each painting is its own performance.

When it works, it is wonderful both in the doing and in the end result. And when it doesn’t work?  Well, I sweat a lot more to try make something out of nothing. And quite often something good does emerge.

Of course, I do have a safety net of sorts with my Gallery Talks. I know that at the end of each talk I can regain the confidence of the audience with the free drawing(s) for my work and the other gifts I often pass out.

Does that constitute a bribe?

Maybe but let’s not make a lovely thing ugly, okay?

I don’t know if this makes sense. Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know.

Seeking the Design– You Could Win This Painting!

All I have to say is that tomorrow, Saturday, November 7, is my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery. It begins at 11 AM but the gallery suggests you arrive early to insure a seat for the talk. Doors open at 10:30 AM. At the end of the Gallery Talk, which generally last about 45 minutes to an hour, there is a free drawing for all those in attendance. Tomorrow I will be giving away the 16″ by 20″ painting shown here, Seeking the Design.

Here’s some uncertainty for you to consider: I might be giving away another one or two and some other stuff. If you want to know if that’s true, you will just have to show up at the West End Gallery tomorrow morning.

Here’s a song, How Can I Be Sure, from 1967 from The Rascals that has been a fave for me for what seems forever. Could be my theme song just based on the uncertainty it evokes.

Moved By Light— At West End Gallery

Let no man imagine that he has no influence. Whoever he may be, and wherever he may be placed, the man who thinks becomes a light and a power. 

–Henry George, Social Problems (1883)

This new 12″ by 36″ painting, Moved By Light, is another from my current solo exhibit at the West End Gallery. The exhibit, titled The Jubilee Dance, ends one week from today, on November 12.

While Moved By Light is a quiet and contemplative piece, I think it possesses a depth of meaning that goes beyond its surface. The kind of painting that soothes while whispering its message in your ear. What that message might be depends on who is looking and listening to it.

I have taken this piece in many times and have had multiple meanings appear to me. Each new reaction, each new meaning is as valid as the last. Some are obvious and some are not.

My most recent reaction to this painting is summed up well by the aphorism at the top from Henry George. Many of us often feel as though our voices go unheard, that whatever we do means little to anyone but ourselves. We cannot recognize how we touch the world and how the world touches us. As a result, we sort of just go through the motions of life without giving it much thought.

But when we attempt to find purpose and meaning– when we consciously think about it– we manifest our own light, one that is apparent to others. Those who live with purpose and thought emit a more radiant light. And as plants and trees reach toward the light of the sun, others are attracted to the light we emit. And even as we give off light, we are also still drawn to other powerful lights.

That’s what I see here, in its simplest form. The Red Tree is drawn to the light of the sun while creating its own light that attracts the trees surrounding it, symbolized by the visible tree trunks that seem to be in motion from this attraction.

That works for me this morning. Maybe it has something to do with the afterglow from Tuesday’s elections in connection with the words of Henry George. I have to confess that I knew nothing about Henry George who was an American political economist and social philosopher who lived from 1839 until his death in 1897.His writings and economic theories brought him great fame. For example, his most famous book, Progress and Poverty from 1879 sold millions of copies around the world. After George died from a stroke while campaigning to be mayor of NYC, his massive funeral procession, after a viewing at the Grand Central Place that drew over 100,000 people, moved through the streets of NYC drawing huge crowds that were said to equal, if not exceed, those of the funeral procession of Abraham Lincoln when his body was paraded in NYC in 1865.

George’s writings ushered in the Progressive Era that brought about many changes that we still benefit from today and helped bring about the end of the Gilded Age. He railed against the inequality of that era, observing that unchecked greed and acquisition can only lead to more and more poverty. His considerable influence continues to this day, and his theories seem even more pertinent in light of our current version of the Gilded Age.

Maybe it is the growing inequality and this election’s rejection of those who seemed hellbent on helping the gap grow for the very privileged few that I saw in George’s aphorism that connected in my mind with this painting.

Maybe. For today, I have to say yes.

Tomorrow it may say something completely different to me. As it should.

That is a quality I desire and value in my work. It is sometimes a mirror that reflects what I am feeling at any given time while at other times it is a window that lets me see and perhaps understand something outside myself.

Seeking the Design— You Could Win This Painting!

A reminder that in two days, on Saturday, November 7, I will be giving a Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery. It starts at 11 AM but we suggest you try to get there early in order to get a seat as seating is limited. Doors open at 10:30 AM. I always enjoy the time just after the doors open as people are coming in.  It’s a time when we get to have a little chat beforehand and I get to ask those folks questions instead of the other way around.

The Gallery Talk is usually a good time with some laughs, some serious thoughts, and a good amount of Q&A. The Talk finishes up with a Free Drawing for the painting shown here, Seeking the Design, which is 16′ by 20″ on canvas. There are always some other surprises which those who have attended my talks in the past know.

Hey, I am feeling pretty upbeat after the past few days, so you never know if I might be even a bit more generous than usual. You will just have to come out to the West End on Saturday morning if you want to find out.

The Gallery Talk and the Drawing are, as always, both free and open to everyone.

Here’s a song that I always enjoy from almost any of the many artists who have covered it. It’s This Little Light of Mine and this live version from Neko Case is a particular favorite of mine.

Open your mind and let your light shine…

Hokusai– Great Wave off Kanagawa (1931)

I dearly love the state of Texas, but I consider that a harmless perversion on my part, and discuss it only with consenting adults. If Texas were a sane place, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

–Molly Ivins, The Fort Worth Star-Telegram (1 March 1992)

Wow.

I don’t even know what to say this morning. That was overwhelming.

Early this morning, still watching results come in, my jaw dropped to ground and never came back up. It was such a powerful and decisive, not to mention beautiful, statement by the people in nearly every state that they were fed up and ready for a major change. It was a stunning repudiation and rebuke of the Trump/MAGA divisive agenda with its callous cruelty and naked racism, not to mention its greedy corruption and mob-like bullying.

It was a beatdown, plain and simple.

None was more incredible than the blue wave that washed across Texas. I never anticipated the stunning beatings that took across the board in Texas. It was simply amazing as every statewide election went blue by margins that were beyond the reach of conspiracy and meddling by huge dark– and not so dark– money.

Thank you, my friends in Texas. You have shocked me in a way I never saw coming. And to those, as well, in Iowa and Kansas and in so many other states and localities where people made the choice to opt for a more humane form of governance.

I hoped for it but, as is the case with so many hopes, never expected it to come to fruition.

I am playing a song this morning that I have been waiting to play again for some time now. It’s Florence & The Machine doing her The Dog Days Are Over. Of course, the dog days are not really over until these elections have real-world consequences. The old adage is that you must be careful what you wish for because you might just get it. That is the case right now. There is deserved elation at the moment but there is so much to do that requires intense effort and a fearless effort to restore accountability and integrity in our government.

When and if they can boldly follow through on their potential, then the dog days might be over.

But for now, the horses are coming so you better run…

Wow.

Norman Rockwell- Election Day

Those who stay away from the election think that one vote will do no good. ‘Tis but one step more to think one vote will do no harm.

–Ralph Waldo Emerson, Journals and Notebooks 1852-1855

I shared this post ten years ago as the 2016 election cycle was coming to an end. It was, as I write below, a nightmare election season, one that was unlike any before, with the twisted concept of alternate facts coming to bear. Russian Kompromat and a desire for oligarchic rule was in the air and though many dismissed it as election season noise at the time, the reality of it is now nakedly apparent. The years after that have been a struggle to deal with a constant daily onslaught of misinformation, disinformation, lies, empty promises, corruption, criminality, cruelty, brutality, and treason.

That nightmare election season from back then has continued as an ongoing national nightmare to this very moment.

But we still stand- for now. Today is an opportunity to change the direction of this nation. A choice to begin to bring this nightmare to a close with true justice and accountability. To begin to bring about change that serves the masses and not the privileged few.

As I said, I shared this 10 years ago. It’s short so I hope you’ll take a minute to take it and the Rockwell images in.

Well, we’re finally nearing the end of our national nightmare. With that in mind, I thought I would show a couple of paintings concerning our election process from Norman Rockwell who chronicled this country for many, many decades and often seemed to get to the core of things in his work.

I have also included a couple of his most famous paintings to show that our elections are something more than popularity contests. They do indeed have consequences. They shape our daily lives as well as our view of the world and our place in it.

Voting is our right, one that has been hard fought and bled for. But more than that, it is an obligation. For a democracy such as ours to survive, each of us must play our part. We must let our voice be heard in the form of our vote, so that our democracy might continue in a way that best serves the people.

Do not take this right and obligation lightly. Let your voice be heard. Vote.

Norman Rockwell- The Right to Know

Norman Rockwell- The Golden Rule

Norman Rockwell- A Time For Greatness

Norman Rockwell- Undecided

Norman Rockwell- At the Polls

Norman Rockwell- Obvious Choice 1948

Norman Rockwell- Election Debate 1920

Norman Rockwell- Elect Casey

Norman Rockwell- Election Day with Dog

Norman Rockwell- The Problem We All Live With

Norman Rockwell – The Four Freedoms

Chaos & Light — At West End Gallery

It partook … of eternity … there is a coherence in things, a stability; something, she meant, is immune from change, and shines out (she glanced at the window with its ripple of reflected lights) in the face of the flowing, the fleeting, the spectral, like a ruby; so that again tonight she had the feeling she had had once today, already, of peace, of rest. Of such moments, she thought, the thing is made that endures.

― Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

I am running a little behind this morning. I thought I’d share a post, slightly reedited, from a several years back about the painting above, Chaos & Light, that is currently hanging as part of my solo show at the West End Gallery. This painting has held been held in high regard in my heart since it was painted, mainly because I think it well represents a major them in my work, that we exist between worlds of chaos and order, light and darkness, the earthly and the ethereal. Between time and the timeless.

We are teetering at this moment from descending into a level of chaos that would throw the balance on which our lives depend out of order. Ad I write chaos is sometimes a virus that evades all our natural defenses. I thought this was an apt read for today, the Monday before an election that definitely represents the struggles to hold back chaos, an election that may bear grave consequences for this country and the rest of the world.

I am also enclosing a song at the bottom from Marc Ribot’s 2019 album, Songs of Resistance 1942-2018. It is his version of the old hymnal Ain’t Gonna Let Them Turn Us Around, that became one of the anthems of the civil rights movement. Sung here by Steve Earle, it’s a good song to keep in mind during our march away from chaos and towards the light.

[ From 2022]

Chaos has been a theme in my work in recent times, showing itself in the random slashing brushstrokes that make up the skies in many of my works. You see such a sky in the painting above, Chaos & Light. It is above and around us all the time and we try to find some sense of order, some means of tolerating it, in the lives we live beneath it.

This theme of chaos is most likely a result of my perception of the times in which we live. I say perception because maybe chaos as a state of being is based more on one’s tolerance and resistance to it. Maybe chaos is the natural state, and we have internal mechanisms that keep it at bay, that keep it barricaded away, unseen, from that part of us that allows us to live and even thrive in some orderly fashion in this world.

The broken irregular rhythms of chaos go unheard and unseen as we attempt to live our lives, simply and naturally.

Sometimes, however, chaos, like a virus, gets past those internal barricades. Chaos becomes apparent, visible and heard. Its rhythms disrupt, infect, our own internal rhytms. Life then becomes more and more filled with chaos. Finding order and simplicity becomes more and more difficult.

Maybe that is the purpose of art, to serve both as a vaccine and a curative to hold chaos outside our selves.

I don’t know.

I know that it makes some small degree of sense to me. I sometimes feel like chaos has infected me, that it runs rampant through my system and my own rhythms have been replaced by those that seem unnatural to me.

But then a dose of art, simple paint on a surface or the sound of a simple tune or the arrangement of words in a book or even the image of light breaking over the horizon in the morning, restores me for at least a short time.

I am sure this sounds crazy to some. That’s okay. Those folks who think this most likely have kept chaos away their whole lives and can’t even begin to understand the plight of those infected by chaos.

This holding off of chaos is what I see in this painting. In many of my paintings, actually. Does it translate as art? I think it does but that’s not for me to say. However, as a soothing balm in troubled and chaotic times, it serves the purpose.

Maybe that is one of the purposes of art? Maybe.

Reminder: This coming Saturday, November 7, I will be giving my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery. It begins at 11 AM and finishes up with a free drawing for one of my paintings. Or maybe two. Who knows? It’s usually a good time. I encourage you to stop in for an hour on Saturday.

It is, as always, free and open to all. We suggest you get there early to get a insure you get a seat since seating is limited. Doors open at 10:30 AM.