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Archive for the ‘Biographical’ Category

Hello In There

Posted in Biographical, Early Paintings, Music, tagged , , , , on September 4, 2016| 1 Comment »

GC Myers Early Work 1994I have a square cardboard box in one of the rooms of my studio.  It’s not much to look at it and it certainly doesn’t have any significance attached to its exterior appearance.  But for me it’s a treasure chest, my secret bounty.  You see, this rather plain box holds hundreds of small pieces from my earliest forays in paint from twenty some years ago.

They are not significant to anyone other than me. If you were to look in it you might not feel anything more than you would from looking at the old buttons, matchbooks and other tiny souvenirs of times past in someone else’s dresser drawers.

Many are clumsy attempts and most are deeply flawed in some way.  But for me, they hold so much more deep meaning than is apparent from a first look. They are my artifacts, my history, my ponderings, my inner thoughts and my memory.

They are me.

There’s always a special feeling when I delve into them, like that feeling of looking at old family photos and vividly remembering moments that seem to have happened eons ago.  I sometimes marvel at the brightness of my youth at that point and sometimes frown at the foolishness of it.  I see where I thought I was going and can compare it to where I finally landed.  There are ideas there that are dismal failures that make me smile now and make me wonder if I should have pursued them further.

And there are some that make me happier now than when they were done.  Time has added a completeness to them that was lacking then.

And there are pieces like the untitled one above from back in 1994 that make me just stop and wonder where they came from.  They seem like lost memories.  I know I made this piece up in my mind but can’t remember why.  I have skimmed over it a hundred times and never given it more than a shrug.  But today I find myself looking intently at it as though it holds something for me that I can’t just pull out of it.

There’s a frustration in that but since I know that it is mine, I don’t really mind.  I will have it for years to come and can question it again and again.  Maybe my mind will release the secret or at least form a substitute reality at some point, one that brings me closure of some kind.

Who knows?

Today’s Sunday Morning music deals a bit with some of the same feelings.  Well, I think it does.  It’s Hello In There from John Prine.  Visiting my father in the nursing home has been hard, not just for the visits with him which still leave me shaken a little after each visit, but for the sight of the other older folks in even deeper states of dementia as they sit in their chairs in the hallways and dining rooms.  There is a lonely blankness in their eyes that is heart-breaking.  You wish you could reach into them and pull their old self out in the open if only for a moment.  But all you can do is say hello and hope they hear the words and the feeling in it.

Anyway, this is a great old song from John Prine.  I hope you’ll give it a listen and have a great Sunday.

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Martyr Revisited

Posted in Biographical, Early Paintings, Favorite Things, tagged , , on August 30, 2016| 1 Comment »

GC Myers- Exile-MartyrI’ve been looking at my Exiles series quite a bit  lately.  From the mid 1990’s, it’s a highly personal series of faces and figures that kind of act as a landing spot for me to place my rawest emotions during trying times.  The piece shown here is titled Martyr and remains an enigma to me, mainly because I have never had thoughts of martyrdom for myself.  But I have been looking at this quite a bit because of a recent request that I revisit this painting at some point in the future.

The person who requested this sees the body and musculature of this figure as an extension of the landscape and when I look at it with that thought I very much see what he means by that.  I had never thought of it in those terms and it strikes a real chord with me so I am excited to get to his request at some point soon.

Plus he would love to see it in tones of blue.  How great would that be?

Anyway, here’s a bit more that I wrote about this piece here many years back:

This is another painting from the Exiles series of the mid 90’s, titled Martyr.  

As I sit here right now, I am at a loss for words to describe this piece.  While there is overt religious symbolism, for me it is not about that.  It is about self-sacrifice, giving everything for the benefit of others.  

But there is also an element that has to do with fear.

When I look at the torso of this character I see it almost as though he has had his skin removed, baring the muscles beneath.  For me, this translates as one being afraid of the consequences of exposing what lies inside.  In my mind, this martyr has been punished for showing who he truly is.

Maybe I’m describing paranoia.  Maybe it’s a form of agoraphobia or just introversion.

I don’t really know.  

It’s funny that this piece that has hung above my desk for many years still perplexes me and eludes definition.  I’m sure that one would expect to know exactly what was meant when I painted this but quite honestly, when I started this piece I had no idea where it was going.  Even when the figure neared completion I was still scrambling for the true meaning.  The elements that seem to from a crucifix were not present and weren’t even contemplated at first.

So the piece remains an enigma.  Personally, I like that.  It gives me a sense that the piece is beyond the obvious which is what I hope for all my work.

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The Writing’s on the Wall

Posted in Biographical, Early Paintings, tagged , , , on August 20, 2016| 10 Comments »

GC Myers-The Writing's on the Wall smI chose the image above from the Exiles series for this post because it just seemed to fit so well.  They were painted in pure emotion so whenever I am dealing with hard emotional things, I tend to go to this group of paintings for some reflection.

There has been a lapse in the blog this past week, as regular readers may have noticed.  It’s been a very, very tough week.

Now I’ve had a number of really bad days in my life.  A few bad weeks.  One or two very bad months and I even think there was one entire year that was fairly rotten from start to finish.  All were basically the result of my own bad decisions or perceptions.  Self-inflicted, you could say.

This was not self-inflicted.  I wish it were.  It would be easier to find blame for it within myself.  That I can do.

No, there is nobody to blame as we’ve been dealing with our father’s declining condition due to his Alzheimer’s. It culminated this past week with my siblings and I heading to Florida to retrieve my father after his longtime partner and caregiver broke her hip, making it unlikely that she will ever be able to provide care for him again. Caring for him was already too much for an 82 year old with health problems of her own living in an area where neither of them had family to fall back on.

It had been a couple of years since I had seen him.  The weekly few minutes on the phone had been reduced to a simple script that he followed that was all about the weather, his physical health (which was always “okay”) and  asking if I had spoke with my sister or my aunt.  Most other subjects were avoided or made short work of when they were brought up.  It always ended abruptly with a “If you get any real news give me a call.”  Three, four minutes, at the very most.

So our first day with him there was a shock seeing him in a very reduced state and we struggled with just what direction this could go.  It was painfully evident he needed real care that we could not provide and that we needed to bring him home to a location near us.  The trick was convincing him that this was the best thing for him.  I say convinced but it amounted to tricking him, playing with his memory deficits to get him to agree to go with us, trying to avoid getting him upset and even more confused or angry.

That sounds awful, I know, but I think those who have dealt with this disease will understand.  Myself, I didn’t have any experience dealing with this and for a day or two it was terrible doing this deception, even though it was benevolent in nature. But it had to be done and this was the only way that would accomplish it.   Even so, I found myself crying every night as I tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to sleep on his couch while he slept fitfully in the room next to me.

Every day posed a new mountain to climb and each new mountain seemed taller than the one before it.  When the time came to move him, it looked like there was a series of ever increasing peaks ahead of us.  It came down to a three day road trip with my brother and I escorting him north.  It felt like three months, every moment spent trying to remind him where we going and that, no, we weren’t taking him to his Florida home.  Everything was difficult and the constant emotional strain began to take a toll in the form of a bone-tiredness and mental fatigue.

Even as we turned into the parking lot of my sister’s apartment, where he will be staying for a short time, I had to calm his agitation.  The same thing happened when I left to come home a bit later.  I’m glad that I have a calming effect on him but it takes a toll every time I have to make him look at me and listen as I tell him that I am looking out for him and that everything will be okay.  Internally, I feel like a shit and a liar because I know that it won’t be okay, that he won’t ever see his Florida home again and most likely won’t see his longtime girlfriend again.

We have even bigger peaks to scale in the days ahead and I am filled with dread.  But they must be climbed.  That’s all there is to it.  There is no choice to be made here.  Regardless of the flaws and shortcomings of this man–and there are many– we know we have a responsibility to him that we can’t discard,  There is only path through those mountains.

I probably shouldn’t be sharing this on this blog that is primarily about my work. But I have come to view my life as my work and my work as my life. They seem interconnected and inseparable.  The emotions in my life feed the emotional part in my work so this will no doubt seep into my future work. That is the one thing in this whole thing of which I am sure.

So, I’ve got to put on my gear for the day and get climbing.  There’s a mountain out there waiting…

 

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A New Mantra/ Redux

Posted in Biographical, Early Paintings, Technique/History, tagged , , on August 8, 2016| 2 Comments »

GC Myers- A New Mantra 2001

One of the galleries representing my work contacted me this weekend asking for some info about some paintings that had been sold there many years ago.  In doing the research for the info, I had to scan through some old slides and early digital images of work from that time.  The painting above just stopped me in my tracks, as it has several times in the past.  All I could think is that I would love to see where this painting is now.   It’s a very large piece and it would be interesting to see how it feels in its environment.  

I had forgot that I had written about this painting five years ago and found that the post spoke about a question that oddly didn’t arise at Saturday’s Gallery Talk.  I thought it would be interesting to share that earlier post:

I came across this painting from 2001 just this morning, one that had slipped off my radar some time ago.  It wasn’t in the studio for long and sold very quickly so I didn’t get to ponder over it for an extended period.  It is titled A New Mantra and  is 31″ high by 51″ oil painting wide on mounted paper.

I do remember painting this piece and how it hit every goal I had for it from the first moment I started on it.  It came so  easily that it felt as though it truly fell out of me, with not  a bit of struggle at any point.  I also remember just being extremely pleased with how this showed in its final state.  It was large and airy yet it had a real up close presence.  To me, it was how it must feel to have the secrets of the universe whispered mysteriously in your ear.

It just felt powerful, whiich is probably why I was so surprised at seeing it again this morning.  How had it slipped out of my mind when it immediately rekindled such strong feelings upon seeing it again?

I don’t know that there is any real explanation.  I know there are other pieces out there that will do the same for me, including many paintings from the earlier years when my photo-documentation wasn’t as thorough.

I can think of one painting that I have often used in Gallery Talks as an example in an account of how some work flows easily while others are a struggle from the first brushstroke.  This particular painting was done after a month of working on a series of paintings that resulted in a commissioned piece.  After delivering that commission,  I went into the studio one morning about 5 AM and a pretty large painting just fell out of me.  I mean that in an almost literal sense.

It was about 40″ square and it was painted without any contemplation or hesitation and with incredible speed. I remember how the paintings of the past month had served as practices or rehearsals for that very moment in time.  Every movement was really from muscle memory, moving without prompting.  The conscious thought process was hushed and in the background.

Two hours later and it was practically done.

I  tell people who asked how long it took to paint a piece that this painting didn’t take 2 hours to paint.  It took over a month and those prior paintings were dress rehearsals of a sort.  It couldn’t have happened without those other pieces building up to it.

To my dismay, that is a piece for which I can’t find an image.  But I will keep looking and hopefully, if I find one, I will feel as I did about once again finding A New Mantra.

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Reginald Marsh and Coney Island

Posted in Biographical, Favorite Things, Personal Mythology, tagged , on July 9, 2016| 2 Comments »

There’s so much craziness taking place in this country at this point in time.  I wanted to write something that would plead for our patience and tolerance,  asking us to avoid the knee jerk reactions, finger-pointing and extreme behaviors that have brought us here.  To ask that we just breath and take a moment to consider the consequences of our words and actions.

I could do that.  But there has been so much said, so many words asking for calm  and some unfortunately, asking for retribution and more anger.  So instead I am going to focus on a different time and place.  Below is a piece from back in 2010 that focuses on the Coney Island paintings of Reginald Marsh, a favorite of mine, and some of my recollections of Coney Island.  Reginald Marsh

Reginald Marsh Coney Island Beach I’m always intrigued by the paintings of Reginald Marsh, who painted scenes depicting the urban world of New York City throughout the early part of the 20th century until his death in 1954.  His paintings always seemed densely packed with figures and constant movement, all rendered with easily recognizable line work and colors that were strong yet had a soft transparency.  Striking.

One of his favorite subjects was Coney Island, the famous part of Brooklyn with its beach, boardwalk and amusement park.  Whenever I see Marsh’s Coney Island paintings I am always reminded of the several trips I made there as a child in the late 1960’s.  My parents and I would go to NY to see Mets’ games, leaving my older, busier siblings at home, and would sometimes go to Coney Island on the day when the games were at night. 

It was always like entering an exotic, much different world than my country home.  It was dirty with  trash strewn everywhere.  I remember the first time we swung into the parking lot at Astroland, the amusement park there, and thinking we’d entered a landfill as there were literally piles of paper and bottles over nearly the whole lot.  If you spent much time in NY at that time, it was not an unusual sight.

Reginald Marsh The Lucky DaredevilsBut it was great fun and over the few visits there I had many memories that burned indelibly into my memory bank.  My parents, and my aunt and uncle who sometimes were with us, would, after a while stop at one of the bars that opened to the boardwalk to have a cold one and I would wander alone.  It was a wonderland of colorful attractions and games, their facades faded by time and sun. I have sharp memories of standing at one bar’s doorway and watching a singer all dressed in cowboy regalia standing on the bar with his electric guitar singing out country songs in the middle of the afternoon.  I sometimes wonder if it might have been country troubador Jerry Jeff Walker who had come out of Brooklyn. 

 Reginald Marsh Coney Island SceneI remember seeing the crowds down on the beach and suddenly seeing everyone there pointing out to the water and yelling.  Looking out, I saw two legs bobbing straight out of the water, almost comically so.  The lifeguards rushed out and dragged the body in.  Dead and, now that I think about it, had probably been so for a while.

I also remember going into a boardwalk arcade and approaching an older man with a gray moustache and a coin changer on his belt.  I asked for change and handed him my dollar bill.  He made a couple of clicks on the changer and poured a pile of nickels into my hands.  As I turned to go the machines, he put his hand on my shoulder.

Reginald MarshTunnel of Love“Hold on!” he exclaimed in a thick accent that sounded Greek and a little angry to a terrified nine year old.  He started chastising me.

“You don’t know me! Don’t ever trust anyone you don’t know.  I give you money and you trust me and don’t count.  You should not trust me.  Now, count!”

I stood there petrified and counted out loud.  It was the right change, of course, and the man’s gruff demeanor suddenly changed and he beamed a smile at me.  “You understand? Now go.  Have fun,” he said as he gave me a pat on the shoulder.

A little life lesson along with the change on the boardwalk in 1969.

That moment is clear as yesterday and it always reappears when I see images from Marsh or images of Coney Island.

Reginald Marsh Pip and Flip

 

 

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Challenger

Posted in Biographical, Early Paintings, Painting, tagged , , on June 22, 2016| 7 Comments »

GC Myers-Challenger 2001This is an early Red Tree painting from back in 2001 that is titled Challenger that lives with me now here in the studio.  It’s one of a small group of pieces that made the rounds through the galleries over the years yet never found a home.  I call them orphans.  This particular orphan spent a much longer time in the galleries than most, only coming back to me a couple of years ago.  It drew interest a number of times yet never made that final connection.

These pieces always intrigue me.  There must be something that can be learned from them or at least that is what my mind tells me.  So I find myself going back again and again to look at these pieces, trying to determine what might be lacking in them.  Or at least pinpointing a reason why they never fully connected.

With some it’s an easy task.  The flaws or weaknesses are obvious and far overshadow the strengths.  In fact, I am pleased that they are with me and not hanging on a wall somewhere.  Thankfully, there aren’t a huge number of those, which I won’t be showing here anytime soon. and will no doubt ever see a gallery wall again.

Some are with me for external reasons like poor presentation– the frame being too wide, too small or an ugly color that fights against the work.  Some are just too big which limited their time on the walls of most galleries which meant they had fewer opportunities to be seen than other smaller paintings.  Some are the last pieces of a series that I no longer work in and don’t really fit in with the pieces of current shows.  Many of these pieces will emerge at some time in the future when the time is right.

But there are a couple, like the painting above, that fall in the middle.  I see strengths in them but I see weaknesses as well.  This particular painting is a little big 18″ by 42″ which made it a bit more expensive and harder to place.  It is oil on a wood panel with a slightly textured gessoed surface which was not unusual for me at the time it was painted but gives it a slightly different look than my typical work which consists of acrylic paints and inks.  This dates it a bit.  Plus the effects of my handling of oils are quite different than my handling of acrylics, as is the the overall color to a degree.

Looking at it, there are things in it that I would do differently now.  Colors that would be changes just a bit, perhaps made a bit more complex with the addition of another tint.  But at the time it was created it represented who I was and what I was doing as an artist so I can’t question it.  Nor do I want to change it now.

It is what it is.  It feels complete and of a time.

So I now look at it in that way and accept it as it is.  I find myself overlooking the small downside and appreciating the essence of the painting without my own bias.  And I like it.  It’s like looking at an old picture of yourself and accepting that it is a past you, a version that you have long transcended. Despite that, it is still you at its core and that is the part that try to see.

So, this orphan may live with me for a long time but that’s okay by me.  It reminds me who I once was.

 

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The Angst of the Longtime Painter/ Double Redux

Posted in Advice, Biographical, tagged , , on June 14, 2016| 5 Comments »

gc-myers-the-angst (1)Each man has his own way of being himself and of saying it so ultimately that he can’t be denied.

—Henry Miller

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I ran the entry below back in 2009 and again back in 2013.  It is a favorite of mine and one of my more popular posts,  regularly drawing a number of readers who find it via web searches.  I like it because it describes the internal transition that took place over the years on my path to becoming and accepting my place as an artist.  I say path because it took a long time before I found the  confidence to call myself an artist.  For many years, even as I was working full time as a painter, I was hesitant to say those words, to say that I was an artist.

I periodically pull this entry up and read it just to remind myself to trust my inner voice and the work that comes from it.  I think it is worth running yet again.  Oh, and excuse Henry Miller for the sexist sounding nature of his words above– it would read better if it went Each person has their own way...

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When I used to enter a gallery or museum, even up until several years ago, I would be filled with a severe sense of dread and anxiety.  Angst. The knot in the stomach. The racing pulse. The whole thing. 

I would go from painting to painting and would feel lessened in some way because in each piece I would see something that I could not do, some technique that was not in my toolbag. There were colors and forms that I could not replicate and all I could think was that I was somehow inferior. 

I didn’t belong. 

The resulting feelings would leave me reeling and sometimes angry, making me even more determined to create something that would validate my work. 

While this was a motivating force for many years, helping me actually find my voice, it gradually subsided over the years as I became more and more aware that I had been focusing on things I could not control and on being something I was not. 

I began to see what I was. My perceptions and feelings were only mine.  To express these, I had an individual voice and vocabulary that was mine and no one else’s.  I began to see that other artists felt about my work as I had felt about their work. I saw that while they were doing things that I could not, the reverse was true as well. I recognized that my voice, my technique and style, was finally mine and mine alone. I saw that my form of expression was every bit as valid as any other artist hanging in any gallery or museum. 

This was a liberating feeling. It allowed me to go into galleries and museums and , instead of seeing what I was not, recognize the beauty of expression that was there and be excited and inspired by things other artists were doing.

Instead of coming out saying ” I’ll show them ” I was saying “I can use that”. 

Instead of asking “Why am I not good enough?” I was asking “Why not me?” 

It was merely a matter of trusting that what I saw in my own work was a true and real expression and would be visible to others. I think this a lesson from which any viewer of art can benefit. They must learn to trust their own instincts and reactions when looking at art. Like my self-expression, their reaction to a work is theirs and theirs alone. Their reaction is as valid as anyone else and no critic or gallery-owner can make a person like a piece that doesn’t move them. When the viewer realizes that there is no right or wrong, that their own opinion is truly valid, their viewing pleasure will increase dramatically. 

By the way, the piece at the top is an old experiment from around 1994. I always enjoy pulling it out even though it doesn’t fit neatly into my normal body of work. No more angst. 

Well, a different kind of angst…

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Link

Posted in Biographical, Favorite Things, tagged , , , , on June 7, 2016| 2 Comments »

Charles C Mulford Grave Alexandria VA National CemeteryI’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.

Col. Eleazer Lindsley

Col.Eleazer Lindsley

But, as many of you who read this blog on a regular basis already know, I am an avid genealogist.  I have documented some of my ancestral discoveries in a series of paintings, Icons, like the one shown here on the right, that I hope to get back to soon.  While going through one of my lines earlier this year I came across a great-grand uncle by the name of Charles C. Mulford, who was the great grandson of Colonel Eleazer Lindsley who is shown in the Icon painting on the right.

Mulford was born in nearby Lindley in 1821 and lived a quiet life as a farmer until the Civil War broke out.  Serving for the 6th Regiment of the NY Heavy Artillery, he saw combat in battles at Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor, the Wilderness, Totopotomy and Petersburg.  At the Battle of Petersburg, Mulford was shot in the upper  thigh and, during his hospitalization, contracted typhus and died in early July of 1864.

It was the same tragic ending that many of my ancestors met while serving this country.  But the interesting detail in the account was that he had died in Alexandria at the Fairfax Seminary hospital and was buried in the National Cemetery not too far from the gallery.

So Friday morning when I went out for coffee at a local cafe that I frequent when I am  in town I decided to seek out my great-grand uncle.  Under threatening skies, I strolled the few blocks to the cemetery that is tucked quietly among neighborhoods filled with townhouses.  It only took a few moments to find the grave, sitting in the first row facing a  stone wall.

The marble headstone was well weathered as you can see at the top of the page.  I stood there for quite a while.  I wondered if any others had looked closely at that stone in recent years, had uttered the name over that grave.

It’s a small thing but just standing in front of that stone for  a few minutes was very calming for me, especially on the day of an opening when I am normally very anxious.  Just knowing that he and I shared a tiny bit of DNA and a common beginning had meaning for me, connecting to me to my family, our history as a nation and to Alexandria, as well.  I felt like I belonged in so many ways.

And there was great peace in that moment.

So, besides the many paintings that I know populate the homes of Alexandria and the friends that I have made there, a small part of my past will always reside in that city.  I finally feel truly connected there.

Some extra info:  Charles Mulford was the first cousin of  General John E. Mulford (my first cousin 6 generations removed) who was President Lincoln‘s  Commissioner of Exchange which meant that he arranged for the exchange of prisoners during the war.  He is shown below in uniform in a photo from Matthew Brady.Gen John E. Mulford Matthew Brady Photo Richmond VA

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Principle Gallery Show Opens Tonight!

Posted in Biographical, Painting, Recent Paintings, tagged , , on June 3, 2016| 1 Comment »

GC Myers 2016 Principle Gallery CardWell, it’s all out of my hands and hanging in the gallery now.  I’m talking about my show of new work, Part of the Pattern,  opening tonight at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria, VA.

There are always some jitters and a little uneasiness for me at these openings even when I feel strongly about the work, as I do with this show.   But time has taught me that so long as I know that I have put full effort into my work things will work out.  And I know that’s the case with this show.

Please come out to the gallery tonight for the opening.  I will be glad to talk with you about the work and answer any question you might have.  Just don’t ask me about particle physics– I can’t help you there.

Part of the Pattern opens tonight at the Principle Gallery with a reception (open to all, of course!) that runs from 6:30 until 9:00 PM.

Hope to see you there.

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ONLY A FEW DAYS REMAIN TO REACH OUT TO NEPAL

AND

GET A CHANCE TO WIN THIS PAINTING!

“Enraptured” is a 30″ by 40″ Painting valued at $5000

Event ends Monday June 6 at 12 Noon ET

For more information go to:  ARTISTS ENGAGING NEPAL

https://www.crowdrise.com/artists-engaging-nepal

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Part of the Pattern

Posted in Biographical, Painting, Recent Paintings, tagged , , , , , , on June 2, 2016| Leave a Comment »

GC Myers- Part of the Pattern Paintings 2016GIFPart of the Pattern , which opens tomorrow, June 3, is my 17th solo show at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria, VA.  It’s been a great run since that first show back in 2000 that introduced the Red Tree into my body of work.  I’m not even sure that I had a body of work at that point.

But through the years this annual show has given me the desire as well as a platform to continuously move my work forward.  It has often reflected my own small steps forward as I sought to find answers in my own life.  This desire  to discover how I fit into this world has been a driving force in my life and the work I have produced over the last 17 years, producing small incremental steps forward  in both.

I don’t know that I will ever reach a point where I will be totally satisfied on either front.

But through this time I have come to believe that the world we know is but a small part of the larger whole, that there are forces and energies that swirl around us without our knowledge of them.  They move in seemingly chaotic ways that occasionally reveal a glimpse of their underlying patterns to us who are fortunate to be looking at that moment.

What it is, what it means, how we fit in—I don’t have any answers.  But just catching that glimpse convinces me that there is a place for us, for me, in that pattern.  Every being, every life, including my own small and seemingly inconsequential life, is included in that pattern and somehow fills a need  by playing its role.

I think a lot of the work from this show reflects this belief that the forces and powers that seem far removed from us are actually within reach.  They affect us and we affect them.

You know, this is a really hard thing to express in words without sounding like I’m dancing on the outer fringes.  Maybe that’s why I work in color, lines and shapes.  I hope you’ll stop in at the Principle Gallery and take a look at this show.

Maybe you will see what I mean.

Part of the Pattern is now on view at the Principle Gallery at 208 King Street in Alexandria, VA.  The show opens Friday, June 3, with an opening reception that runs from 6:30 to 9:00 PM.  Hope to see you there.

************************

ONLY A FEW DAYS REMAIN TO REACH OUT TO NEPAL

AND

GET A CHANCE TO WIN THIS PAINTING!

“Enraptured” is a 30″ by 40″ Painting valued at $5000

Event ends Monday June 6 at 12 Noon ET

For more information go to:  ARTISTS ENGAGING NEPAL

https://www.crowdrise.com/artists-engaging-nepal

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