Flow: Yin and Yang– At West End Gallery
Every body perseveres in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight forward, except insofar as it is compelled to change its state by forces impressed.
–Isaac Newton, The Principia: Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy (1687)
I’ve done about 72 or 73 solo exhibits over the past 30 years. Hard to keep track of them at this point. But in every show, there is usually at least one piece that I know has little chance of finding a new home. It is not because they are not the equal of the other work in the show nor lacking in any aspect. They are actually often some of my favorites from these shows. They are usually those paintings that are a little outside of the normal range and vocabulary of my work.
Some are slightly abstracted yet still representational. Most lack the Red Tree or many of the typical elements that populate my paintings. Most are focused solely on rhythm and color.
Almost all have eventually come back to me in the studio.
Yet time and time again, I feel a compulsion to follow through on some innate need to paint these pieces without any regard for their appeal to potential collectors. They are simply pieces that have to be painted for some inexplicable reason. As though there is some Newtonian force compelling a change in the course of my work. It is a mystery.
This painting, Flow: Yin and Yang, is one of those enigmatic pieces.
I shared it here early this year. It was intended to be in my June show at the Principle Gallery but something about it did not feel complete or right though I was still immensely drawn to it. Months later I went back into and heightened the colors in both the sky and in the landscape. It really began to click for me then.
I don’t know that I can explain its appeal to me. Actually, I am not even going to try. It doesn’t need my feeble explanations. because, though it feels outside the range of my recognizable work, it is as ingrained in and of me as any Red Tree piece.
It is what it is. And what it is is exactly what it should be.
Isn’t that the definition of art?
Maybe my inability to explain paintings such as this is part of the appeal for me. They sing in a range beyond my normal voice, one that leaves me looking at them in wonder.
Why is that?
As always, I don’t know. And that’s okay.
I can live with not knowing in my mind what I know in my heart.
Here’s a song. Two versions of a favorite, Even Flow, from Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam. The first is from their appearance on MTV Unplugged in 1992. The second is an acoustic guitar version without lyrics.
Pick your poison. Or not.