She had studied the universe all her life, but had overlooked its clearest message: For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.
― Carl Sagan, Contact
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This year’s title for my annual solo show at the West End Gallery, which opens July 22, is Contact. It has nothing to do with the famous Carl Sagan novel of the same name about our first encounter with an advanced alien life form, which was also made into a film with Jodie Foster. But even though there is no real relationship between the Sagan story and this show, I did come across the quote above from the book that meshes very well with what I see as the theme of this show and much of my work in general: how we cope with our role is as small and insignificant creatures in an endlessly vast and cold universe.
The painting above is from the show and is a 20″ by 30″ canvas titled Bearable Vastness. I think, going back to the quote, that the Red Tree here has come to realize that the only thing that will bring it the peace of mind to accept its place as a tiny being in a vast universe of powerful forces beyond its comprehension is to work to achieve love in some way in its own time and place.
Put simply, love is the answer.
I know that in the current environment of terror, anger, hatred and outright stupidity that these words sound absolutely naive.
Maybe.
But I have never known of a time when anger and hatred and violence and ignorance have spawned anything but more of the same. Never has a lasting peace risen from hatred and intolerance of others. Nothing positive has ever been built on a foundation of hatred, anger and fear. Only demagogues and dictators rise from that swamp. For them, love is always replaced with fear and cynicism.
Maybe you still will call it naive. So be it. That’s your cross to bear. As for me, while the universe is vast and uncaring I will always choose love as the way to somehow endure it.
It’s the only choice I could possibly make.
Each man has his own way of being himself and of saying it so ultimately that he can’t be denied.
Yet another mass killing right here in the the good US of A, this time in Orlando. 50 dead and another 53 wounded, many in critical condition.
It’s hard to believe that Paul Simon has been a major part of the American songbook for over 50 years, since The Sound of Silence arrived back in 1964. If you want to get technical, Simon has been writing and recording since 1957. So it’s closer to 60 years. And through all that time, he has continued to move forward, never opting to cruise by on a well-built reputation and a deep body of stellar work.
For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.
Forgive me.
We were notified just a short time ago by the folks at Crowdrise that they had chosen the winner of the painting, Enraptured, that was the prize in the inaugural fundraising event for Artists Engaging Nepal which benefits the Soarway Foundation and its partnership with charitable groups in Nepal. The winner was randomly chosen by their computer from a group of people who were entered into the drawing as a result of their donations to the Soarway Foundation.
I’ve been going to Alexandria, VA, a lovely and historic town that hugs the Potomac River just a few miles below Washington DC, for a long time, often several times a year. Outside of my link with the Principle Gallery and the relationships that have grown from that, I never thought I had a connection of any sort with that area.
I’m a little tired, mainly of talking about my work and myself, and want to keep this short today. I thought I’d show another painting from the show at the Principle Gallery and couple it with the song that spawned it. The painting above is titled To the Watchtower which I derived from the old Bob Dylan song All Along the Watchtower.
Had a very nice visit in Alexandria. On Friday the weather always seemed on the verge of a huge thunderstorm, which had me a little apprehensive– even more than I normally be on the day of a show– about prospects for the opening reception of this year’s show, Part of the Pattern, at the Principle Gallery on that evening. However the storm never really hit with much force and the reception turned out well.
Redtree Times 