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Yesterday, I sent out a donation to a relief organization to aid in the effort to help the citizens of Haiti in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake.  When you see the images of those people, wandering aimlessly through streets strewn with corpses and the rubble of what was their life before the quake, how can someone turn their back on these people?  I know we all have our own problems and worries in our own lives to bear but do they really compare to what these folks are experiencing?

Try to imagine the feelings that must be racing through these people’s minds.  Despair and loss.  The feeling of utter hopelessness.  In all too many cases, the grief of losing family.  These are people who have struggled through the bleakest of times only to have everything they have stripped away in a few moments.

Do your problems really compare?

If you can, please give, but choose wisely.  Unfortunately, there are unscrupulous skunks out there willing to profit from this type of tragedy.  I have always supported Americares because of the efficiency of their organization.  Over 99% of their donations go directly to rescue and aid efforts all over the world as well as here in the US.  Another is the Red Cross , always at the forefront of providing disaster assistance.  Then there is Yele which is the Haitian relief organization set up by Wyclef Jean in 2005 to help lead his native land in  recovery from their many past woes.  There are many others who are trying to provide great assistance to the people of Haiti.  Just know what the organization really is to which you are donating.

ANOTHER SMALL WAY TO HELP


Besides my cash donation, I would like to offer this painting up for an online auction in which all proceeds will go to one of your choice of the three organizations listed above. Actually, I will go one better– I will donate 125% of the winning bid, 100% of the bid and an additional 25% from my own pocket.  So your winning bid will provide $1.25 of aid for every dollar bid. I will pay for shipping and insurance for the piece.  Bids will be accepted through the comments section or, if you prefer anonymity, at my website’s email address, info@gcmyers.com .

This painting is titled Proclamation and is a 12″ by 16″ painting on canvas, framed in my normal floating frame.  It is a piece that would normally be priced in the $1400 range in galleries.  I will ship it with a dedication to you on the back in honor of your donation as well as a signed copy of my book.

The bidding starts at $300 and runs until Tuesday, January 19, at 12 noon EST.

So, if you’d like to help in a small way the people of Haiti you can bid on this piece with my gratitude in knowing my work would be of some help to these people. If you can’t or don’t want to bid on this, try to give something to an organization set up to help these folks, such as the ones listed above.  If you know someone who might be interested in this painting and in giving aid to the Haitian people, pass this post on to them.

Whatever the case, try to help…

The Current High Bid as of 2:57 PM Friday is——$ 1500.00


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Upcoming

Well, I’ve firmed up a couple of things that I will be doing in the next few weeks.  First, tomorrow I will be giving a talk about my work  for a group at, of all things, a Christmas party.  It’s an annual event given by a longtime collector of my paintings who first became acquainted with me while I was still waiting tables back in the 90’s.

Then I will be guest-sitting at the West End Gallery in Corning from the day after Christmas until  December 30.  I haven’t done something like this for some time and am looking forward to it.  I’ve been looking for something to shake up my perspective and the opportunity to be surrounded by art and talk about it seemed like a perfect fit.  I did this once before, about 11 or 12 years ago, and it was really enlightening to get a different view on how people look at art and what matters to them, something that gets lost in the isolation of the studio.  It also creates an energy that will carry over into the studio in January, when I start really focusing on the shows for that year.

I’ll be talking a little more about this in the next week or so.  It’s a great chance, if you have questions about the work, to ask them outside the night of an opening when time is very limited.  I’m planning a few other special things so if you’re in the area, please stop in to shoot the breeze and take a look at the work in this wonderful gallery.

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Mystery Solved

I was up early this morning and as I walked to the studio in the cold darkness, my eyes drifted up to the clear sky above where the stars were sharp and glinting.  I thought about the mystery of the spiral light that flashed across the skies of Norway this past week, causing much alarm and speculation.

Mystery solved.

Turns out it was a Russian intercontinental missile test over the White Sea that was fired from a submarine.  The spiral of the light was caused by a failure of one of the rocket’s stages.

UFO believers were a little disappointed and, once again, suspicious.  There’s a conspiracy lurking in every event for those guys.

The whole thing made me wonder about our fascination with UFOs and alien life forms.  Does the desire to believe in such things as UFOs mimic in some way  religion and our need to believe that there is more than our temporal life on Earth?  Are these people searching the skies responding in the same way as someone searching their religious texts?

Both want answers.  Both want to believe that we are not alone in our existence here, that there is life beyond.  Both are often stubbornly entrenched in their beliefs even when faced with positive evidence that contradicts them.

Are UFO believers simply people who are disenfranchised from conventional religion yet still seek answers to the mysteries of life, turning outward to the cosmos instead of looking inward?

Like most questions that come to me at 5:30 in the morning, I have no answers.  Just wondering.  Unlike the Norwegian lights, this is a mystery that will not be solved anytime soon…

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A number of years ago, while wandering around the National Mall in Washington, DC, Cheri and I stumbled across this older memorial just off  to the side.  There was nobody there and it was a nice respite from the crowds.  We had no idea what it was, having never seen it in any literature, but deduced it was a World War I memorial from the inscription across its crown.

It was very rundown.  The marble was severely stained and appeared to be in disrepair.  The foliage around it was untrimmed and though there was a lovely peacefulness there befitting a memorial to brave warriors, it was a sad sight.  We walked on to other, more well known monuments.

Today there is one surviving soldier from World War I, Frank Buckles.  One last witness to the war that was the first to earn the moniker of world war.  Horrible enough to be called The Great War.  The war to end all wars. Over 115,000 of our soldiers died from 1917-1918.  To put that into perspective, around 4000 of our troops have perished in Iraq and Afghanistan.

It was a war that changed the world.

And our national memorial to it sits unattended and passed by.  A great shame and testimony to the shortness of our collective memory.  Frank Buckles is the honorary chairman of the World War I Memorial Foundation which is trying to raise funds to renovate the monument and bring it to the attention of the public.  It’s a worthy effort for the old soldier.

My hope is that other soldiers from later wars will recognize the need for stepping forward to champion this cause.  If the memory of the blood and sacrifice of the 115,000 Americans killed in that war can be lost after a mere 90 years, their own efforts and self-sacrifice may soon go the same route and be forgotten as well.

And that would be a great shame.

So take a look at their site and if you’re in DC  stop in and honor the fallen of the First World War.

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The ancient Mayans may be saying that the world will soon end but it’s not a new concept.  Many people throughout time have foresaw the end of the world through the signs they read in the pattern of their society’s breakdown.  You can read it throughout history.  Men of the day, from ancient Greece onward, decrying the breakdown of their civilization and the imminent demise of the world.

I’ve written a bit about the items I’ve been reading in the old newspapers while doing some research on my grandfather.  At first I was charmed by the vivid nature of the time.  Explosive growth and innovation in so many fields.  Seemingly unlimited potential for those willing to go for it.

But as I scanned through the pages, it became a nightmare world.  Every day brought new horrors.  The local pages were filled with the deaths of so many, young and old, from things that have been tamed by modern science for so long that we no longer give them a second thought unless we’re in a third world nation.  Dysentery, cholera and malaria.  Tuberculosis.

Rabies.  Yes, rabies, for chrissakes.

There were several accounts in the papers from the short time at which I was looking, in which local citizens died from rabies.  In one case the man was placed in a padded cell and was near death, according to the account.

People were hit by trains on the city streets on a regular basis.  Multiple accounts of farming accidents, most in graphic details that you would never see in today’s papers.  Plenty of murders.  There were only a handful of cars on the roads around 1905 but there were plenty of reports of accidents, many fatal.

And fires.  Everyday another fire and often, another death.  In Forestport, a booming logging town in the southern part of the Adirondacks where my great-grandfather plied his trade, the downtown area suffered two devastating fires in the period of seven years.

There was a wealth of other chaotic activities going on to stoke the fires under those who saw the end of the world at that time.  Nationally, there were anarchists setting off bombs.  Local skirmishes the world over.  Here, we had Black Hand societies that stemmed from Italian immigrants and were a precursor to the later Mafia.  They were notorious for their Black Hand letters sent to those from which they wanted to extort money, letters that usually had a drawing of a black hand and a dagger alongside their threat and demands.  Most of the threats were against other Italian immigrants. I was surprised to see multiple accounts of such letters being made public in the papers.

After a time of reading these papers and seeing page after page of relative misery, I could see why the contemporaries of that time would see the end of the world hurtling at them.  Made me appreciate our own times a bit more and put reports of our demise in perspective.

I guess Dickens was accurate for all eras when he wrote those great first lines of A Tale of Two Cities:    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

So, the world may or may not end as the Mayans forecast.  If it does, it does.  I fit doesn’t, we’ll just feel like it is anyways…


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It’s Thanksgiving 2009, the last one of this first decade of the new century.  It has been a decade that many would like to put well behind us.  A decade of terrorism, non-stop war and unabated greed.

But there are still reasons for giving thanks.  Friends and family and the love that is there.   The moments of joy that brighten many dark days.  A kind word from a stranger.   The sunshine and the rain that nourish us.  The food we eat.

It’s simple.  It’s anything and everything.

In a universe that is seemingly infinite, we are riding the tiniest clod of  soil and water.  We have consciousness,  aware of the world around us.

We are alive.

So, on this last Thanksgiving of this decade, look around and be thankful but remember that Thanksgiving is a word of action.  It is not static.  Be active and express your thanks to those around you.  If you have the ability, show your thanks to the world by helping those who have not been quite so fortunate in worldly terms.  Or by extending a hand in some way to those who sacrifice on our behalf, such as the soldiers who are spending their day away from those they love.

Volunteer at your favorite charity.  Write a check to your local food bank.  Just do something to help someone besides yourself.

It’s a word of action, after all.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving…

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StalinAh, it’s good to be back in my studio after spending three days racing through seven states to deliver new work to galleries in Virginia and North Carolina.  While it was good to spend a bit of time at the galleries, discussing the state of the art business at the moment, it’s always better to be here, focusing more on creation than on promotion and sales.

I was able to listen to a lot of music while driving as well as catch some interesting stories on public radio that gave me something to think about.  Yesterday, as I drove in the early morning rain of Virginia, I heard a story on NPR concerning the way Joseph Stalin is being viewed in present day Russia.  In a poll last year, Stalin was chosen by Russians, in a sort of American Idol style vote, as the third greatest Russian of all time.  Despite the many millions, yes, millions of Russian citizens who were put to death by Stalin, despite the political purges and gulags and Soviet policies that caused a type of artificial famine that killed far more citizens than any natural famine more than once, the current populace said that this Man of Steel was their guy.

Interesting.

In the story, a present day student compared Stalin favorably to the Adolph Hitler of the early 1930’s, in that both restored pride and self-confidence to their citizens in trying times.  He also cited Stalin’s part in defeating Hiltler’s Germany in WW II as another reason for his positive view of Stalin.

Other present day Russians have said that what Russia needs now is another Stalin.  Rootin’ Tootin’ Vlad Putin has started reintroducing Stalin to the Russian public, reinserting verses praising Stalin to the national anthem that were long ago taken out.

It gave me a bit of a chill.

This revisionist history takes place everywhere when the times become a bit more difficult.  The older population who lived through the Stalin era see the chaos of the current Russia and begin to romanticize for what they now remember as the stability of Stalin’s time.  I have to admit, there is a certain level of stability in under a Stalin-like dictatorship.  One doesn’t have a lot of choices or freedoms to clutter the mind.   Most decisions are out of your hands.  For many, this freedom from choice, when viewed through the distance of time, seems almost nostalgic.  Ah, the way we were.

The real question is, when there is this nostalgia for someone like Stalin, when the mindset of a large swath of the population begins to overlook the atrocities of a man like Stalin and the horror of those times, where is that country headed?

I don’t mean to sound like some McCarthy-era siren, wailing that the Russian are coming, the Russians are coming!  No duck-and-cover here.  I just am mystified by how the nationalism of a people is always morphing and how those in power can manipulate the past to fit the present to achieve their desire future.  I hope I don’t live long enough to see the German  people name Hitler as the greatest German ever…

Just something to think about.

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hideki matsuiThe World Series ended last night with a bang as an aging Hideki Matsui (AKA Godzilla) single-handedly slugged his New York Yankees over the Philadelphia Phillies.  He drove in 6 runs with 3 hits including a soaring home run off longtime Yankee nemesis Pedro Martinez on the way to a 7-3 victory.  It was the 27th championship in the storied history of the team.

It was a really good Series between arguably the two best teams in baseball.  The Phillies, last year’s reigning champs, were a formidable opponent and a very likable group that played the game with full effort.  They could have easily won any of these games.  However, the  Yankees were just a step ahead this year.

To a baseball fan, the game becomes part of your daily ritual.  It’s a long season that spans all four  seasons, running from  spring training that starts in the last weeks of winter to the Fall Classic, as the Series is called.  The Yankees played 177 regular season games not to mention all the spring training games.  It is, as they say, a marathon sport based on finding the rhythm of a team and trying to maintain it through the ups, downs and grind of this long year.  It very much mimics day to day life.

So, you follow your team and suffer through the lows and relish the highs.  Being a Yankee fan has had a lot of highs, certainly.  But the heightened expectations create deep lows when your team fails to follow through on the promise of their potential.  And this year’s team was promising a lot.  It was a team that was very easy to like in many ways.  I’ve heard fans of other teams say that it tore them up because this team was so hard to dislike.  They played hard all the time, played with joy and never seemed to be just putting in the time when they were on the field which means a lot to the day to day fans.  When you’re committed as a fan you want to know that your players are as invested emotionally as you in the season.

That’s why it’s been a pleasure following these Yankees over the last 15 years or so.  I remember reading about Joe Dimaggio saying that he played hard every day out of respect for the fans, that he knew what a big deal it was for many of them to make the trip, many from long distances, just to see the game on that particular day.  It might be the only time they’ll ever see you in person and they deserved to see you try to do your best.  I’ve watched Derek Jeter day in and day out for since 1996 and he has never made me feel as though his full attention was anywhere other than where he was at that moment on the field.  Full effort all the time.  Oh, he’s failed.  Much more than he’s succeeded.  That’s the nature of baseball.  But his effort has never lagged.

And that’s what carries the fans through the lows.  That feeling that though they couldn’t go all the way, they gave it all they had.  It’s a good life lesson.

And when they give all and win, it’s even sweeter.

Now I have a baseball void for the next few months.  Can’t wait for spring training…

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Walk-Off WinI’m up surprisingly early this morning, after watching about a 5 1/2 hour Yankees/Angels playoff game last night, one that ended well after 1 AM.

It was a classic with everything that a fan could want.  Great performances.  Drama.  Heroics.  Sheer elation.

And humility.

Yeah, that’s right.  Humility.  I’m not talking about the “Aw, shucks, it weren’t nothing, Ma’am …”  kind of humility.  I’m talking about the built in humility of the game.  This a game where you will fail nearly every game in a game that is played nearly every day, often in crucial moments.  If you only fail as a hitter 70% of the time you could very well end up in Cooperstown, in the Hall of Fame.  As a fielder, there will inevitably be moments where, even if you are the best,  you will fail, making an error.  As a pitcher,  you are an ace if you only give up 3 or 4 runs a game.

Yet with all this failure, there is still the possibility of victory.  Take for instance, the night Derek Jeter had last night.  The Yankee captain started the scoring early with a home run.

Top of the world, ma, to quote Jimmy Cagney.

But as the game progressed he struck out a couple of times, hit into a costly double-play  and made an error in the field that could have been disastrous.  Yet, through all of this failure, his team emerged victorious.  That’s what I like about baseball.  It’s not about physical dominance but is most often about consistency and persistence, slogging forward despite the failures.  Shrugging them off and looking forward to the next at-bat, not as a chance to again fail, but as an opportunity to succeed.

There’s a life lesson for us all in there somewhere.  The most successful players in baseball have the ability to sweep away the memory of the last failure and move on to the next opportunity.  They try to learn from their failures.  Adjust.  And dare to fail again.  Something we should all remember.

That’s the humility in baseball.

Go, Yanks…

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balloon-colorado-4_1503163cThis morning, for the first time in a long time, I was pleased with the coverage my local newspaper gave a story.  It was the story of a possible lost child and  a weather balloon of sorts.  As a local story, it had some interesting aspects.  As a national story it deserved no more attention than a small report in the back of the paper or a short line or two on the crawl across the bottom of the television screen.

My local paper got it right.  Just a few paragraphs and a picture on the back of one  section.  No big deal.

The national press,  however, went insane yesterday and gave us positive proof that they have no self control, no will to vet a story for its value on a national stage.  Yesterday afternoon, all of the 24/7 news outlets devoted hours of coverage to this story, following this ridiculous balloon every step of the way.  Interviews with neighbors.  Interviews with people from Wife Swap, the reality TV show on which the family had appeared.  An endless rundown of the father’s life.

Hours and hours.  All the other news swept aside by this stupid, silly balloon story.

The NBC Evening News opened with the story and devoted nearly 5 minutes of their 20 -22 minutes to it.  With everything that is going on in the world, they devote the first quarter of their show to a little boy hiding in his attic and his irresponsible father’s supposed runaway balloon.  This is the level that we’ve come to expect from those who bring us our news and information.

It’s infuriating.  The other night Jon Stewart, on The Daily Show,did a segment on CNN‘s devotion to fact-checking a Saturday Night Live skit as compared to the way they do absolutely no fact-checking on the talking heads who come on their shows and spout off numbers to back their causes.  It made me realize how totally unqualified the hosts on these shows are to really be able to interview any of their guests with any depth or comprehension.  Stewart is a comedian on a faux news show and is eminently more qualified and better prepared  than most, if not all, of these Barbies and Kens.  They almost always end their interviews with the most cogent questions dangling there, waiting to be asked.  No real info can be extracted when they haven’t a clue what they’re talking about.

And then it’s off to a car chase in El Segundo…

If you’d like to see Jon Stewart’s segment, click here.

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