The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there. Other people can talk about how to expand the destiny of mankind. I just want to talk about how to fix a motorcycle. I think that what I have to say has more lasting value.
—Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (1974)
Just a reminder that in two weeks from today, Saturday, August 10, I will be giving a Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY. It begins at 11 AM or pretty close to it. If the past is any indication, we expect a pretty good crowd so if you want to grab a seat, I suggest getting there as close as possible to 10:45 when the doors open. I will be posting more details on the Gallery Talk in the coming weeks.
As to what the Talk will be about, I will probably adhere to the advice above from Robert Pirsig and talk about painting. As he points out, talking about those things you most deeply know and love is the best way to improve the world.
I know that some of you would prefer that I kept to that mantra in this blog and steer clear of current events and politics. Stay in my lane. I get it.
Unfortunately, politics reaches into every lane, affecting nearly aspect of our lives in some way. The income we earn, the retirement benefits and healthcare on which many of us depend, the taxes we pay, and the rights and freedoms which we often take for granted are all affected by politics.
To not stake your claim on the political landscape means that someone else will make those decisions on the issues that affect your life for you, without your input at all. And often without any concern for how it affects you. Maybe even against your own beliefs and desires.
Art is much like politics in that it also reaches into lanes outside its own. It is, after all, an expression of the artist in and of their time and place. influenced by everything that comes into their world. It is often– and at its best– a clear expression of who and what the artist is and believes.
So, I will occasionally venture into the political realm here. You may not like it or might not always agree with my viewpoint on things. As it is with art, that is just as it should be. That means you are listening and hopefully thinking on your own, not deferring your rights and beliefs to others.
Understand that I venture into this political landscape not to change your mind on anything. It would be great, especially for me, if it were that simple to make everyone see things just as I do. But, again like art, that is not the way things work. I talk and write about things political more as a protective measure for myself, to assure myself that I have tried to speak out in some small way, to have my voice heard.
Again, much like why I began painting.
It also serves as protection against becoming numb to the barrage of hatred and lies to which we are continually subjected. If I didn’t have a release of this sort, I fear I would become too much like the howling banshees of social media who spout certainties without any factual basis so long as it lines up with their prejudices.
I think an anecdote about the Dutch-born American clergyman and political activist A.J. Muste (1885-1967) sums up best why I write on such things here. It is said that he protested against the war in Vietnam by standing alone outside the White House every night with a lit candle, even in the worst weather.
A reporter asked him at the time, “Do you really think you are going to change the policies of this country by standing out here alone at night in front of the White House with a candle?”
Muste replied, “Oh I don’t do this to change the country. I do this so the country won’t change me.”
If writing a little about how I view the world politically is what it takes to keep me from becoming as bitter and filled with hate like so many others who have given in to that lure, so be it.
It reminds me of who I am and who I refuse to be.
I won’t bring this up at the Gallery Talk, if you won’t. We’ll just talk art if that is what you want.
Either way, it will be fun.
So, mark your calendars for the talk and, in the meantime, try to get into the West End Gallery to see my show. Here’s a song from The Music Machine from 1966 that deals with the idea of talk. Well. kind of. I’ve heard this song many, many times over the years but never really heard the lyrics until I watch this video with the lyrics. It made me chuckle. Good garage band rock does that sometimes, especially with lyrics like: My social life’s a dud/My name is really mud.
Anyway, here’s Talk Talk.
Redtree Times 