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Archive for the ‘Quote’ Category

When a writer knows home in his heart,

his heart must remain subtly apart from it.

He must always be a stranger

to the place he loves,

and its people.”

—William Morris

I came across this quote from William Morris, the English artist/designer/writer who basically set the Craftsman aesthetic movement into motion in Britain and here in the States.  I found this as a quote without any context and  was immediately intrigued by it.

It seems somewhat sad at first glance, that one should remain somewhat aloof in one’s home but I think I understand what he’s saying.  To understand what home means to you, you must be able to step away and view it with a slightly distant eye, to put yourself in the corner as a dispassionate observer.  From this vantage point one can see and understand the bonds of home.

I don’t know why I mention this today.  Maybe it’s that lately my work has dealt with the concept of home and what it means symbolically.  What does home really mean?  Is it a place or a state of being?  Is it formed by the sense of security one experienced and maintains from their childhood?  Does the search for home ever feel fulfilled?  Maybe it’s questions such as these  that draw me to these words.

Like anything, to truly understand something you must be able to step back from it and view it from a distance.  When you’re in a house you may have only an idea of what it looks like put together from going from room to room, getting a sense of size and shape.  But it’s only when you step outside the house and take it all in from a more  distant view, that you truly see how the house looks and sits in its environment.  I think this is what Morris is saying about one’s sentimental home as well.

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There is a wonderful law of nature that the three things we crave most in life– happiness, freedom and peace of mind– are always obtained by giving them to someone else.

—— General Peyton March

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This seems like the right thought at this time.  All too many people all over the world  lacking in happiness, freedom and peace and too many people trying to satisfy these desires of their own in a greedy, selfish way, believing they are not connected to the suffering of others.  That they cannot have an effect.

But ultimately we are all connected.  And perhaps it will only take a few small acts of kindness in our everyday lives that will snowball, inspiring others to action and changing the way that our collective mind looks at the suffering of others,  allowing us to believe that we can do great things.  And with that belief, we could do great things.

And wouldn’t that be a big step forward to achieving happiness, freedom and peace of mind for ourselves?

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The piece at the top of this post is titled Lines of Connection and is a wee 2″ by 4″ painting and is available as part of the Little Gems show at the West End Gallery in Corning.

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Simplicity

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.

—-Leonardo Da Vinci

I guess that about sums up our lesson for the day.  Enough said.

Enjoy the day….

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Silence is as full of potential wisdom and wit as the unshown marble of great sculpture. The silent bear no witness against themselves.

—Aldous Huxley

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I’ve been scratching around in the studio for the last few days.  Straightening up a little, putting things in their places.  Taking inventory, as it were.  Seeing what materials I have on hand, what I’m short on.

I do the same with the creative side of my mind.  I take this time, as I’ve noted in the past, to look back at the year and the body of work I’ve created over this period.  What have I done?  What is strong and what needs to improve?

One thing I’ve done in the past year is the continuance of this blog.  It’s done far better than I ever expected as far as readership and it has become a big part of my morning in the studio.  The feedback has been great and  I’ve taken a lot from the comments and e-mails received as a result of this blog but I still worry that this provides too much information about a subject, painting as an art, that often communicates best without words.  I still fear that the impact of my words and thoughts will never add up to anything near the sum of my painted work and, as a result, a seed of doubt will be planted.  A doubt that makes the viewer question their own view of the work.  If I speak and write and eventually expose all my flaws and deficiencies, will the work still stand up?

As Huxley said, the silent bear no witness against themselves.  There’s much to be said for that.  Maybe the silent artist allows the narrative surrounding their work to form on its own, to grow beyond what they themselves may be.  I can see that in many cases.

But I’ve found that I’ve always wanted to control the narrative around my work.  To not let it be spun out of my hands.  So I talk and write.

For better or worse…

The inventory goes on.

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Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you represents determinism;

the way you play it is free will .        —Nehru

Will- GC Myers 2009The words of longtime Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru seem to fit well with what I felt from this new piece that I delivered this past week to the Haen Gallery in Asheville, NC.  It’s called Will and is a 10″ by 30″ canvas.

For me, this piece is about enduring, weathering the winds and tides of change while sticking to one’s objective.  I see a lot of strength in this tree.  A lot of will power. It bends, it strains, yet stands.

As Nehru inferred, we are all subject to strains and obstacles that we could easily let waylay our best laid plans.  But we also all possess the ability to will ourselves past these barriers, if we only choose to do so.  This decision to do so is one that many give up on much early in their struggle and settle for a mediocre version of what they foresaw for themselves.  The tree in this painting refuses to settle.

That’s what I get from this piece.  Maybe you’ll see something other than this and come away with a completely different read on this painting.  That’s okay and as valid as my own translation. Hopefully, it will have something to say to you…

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GC Myers 2009 adding BlueWell, this painting, a 42″ by 60″ canvas, is closing in on what may be its final appearance, at least in my head.  I have the sky close to where I see it finishing, the village only needs some highlights here and there  and the landscape is basically set in place.

My next move is to move into the last large area that needs paint- the waterway and the land on either side of it.  I first go in with a manganese blue, a rich color that I can play off as I move along.  I often use blue for water even though it seldom appears that way in nature.  There seems to be a childish element that allows us to imagine or see blue as water.  For me, it goes back to how the color plays off the other colors.  The harmony produced is more important to me.  I also start adding color to the bridge at this point, although I see it changing in color over the rest of the process.

GC Myers 2009 Nearing the Finish LineFrom there it’s on to putting some color into the lower segment of landscape around the waterway and the structures.  I start with a dark Hunter green which actually darkens this space with a real earthy almost black green tone.  I like the way this sets everything off but am feeling it’s a little too deep and dark, almost flat in dimension.  I think that I probably lighten this soon but I first transition back into the water where I start laying in a lighter blue over the darker manganese underneath.  There is a bit of violet mixed with the blue I’m using which warms the blue just a bit.  I feel like I’m close to where I want this to be at this point but there is still a little work ahead, especially on the water and the bridge.

I start by lightening the bridge so that it has more contrast against the blue of the water.  I want contrast but not so much that the eye settles there.  I next begin adding a little depth in the green of the landscape with a mix of cadmium orange and yellow, once more put on with a light, dryish brush.  The  technique with the brush is as though I’m dusting something off the canvas with short, quick strokes, leaving only a residual of pigment.  This little bit of color atop the green makes a huge difference and I take this same color and technique into the water, really lightening the color so that it has a violet-slatey color, much less blue than it started.  Here’s where I am:

DSC_0106 smallSo I’m near the end and I really like the feel so far with this painting- but…  There’s always a but.

But I really feel it needs one more element beyond the village to bring it all together.  A real object of focus.  Like the tree or trees I mentioned in yesterday’s update.  Or I could take one of the larger, centrally located structures and put even more highlight, more brightness on it.

I’m leaning toward the tree but this is the part of the process where the painting sits for a while in the studio and I look at it over the next several days.  I’m consciously weighing all the elements in the painting to see if there is balance in the structure.  Does it hold together as a composition and do all the elements and lines make sense, not make me stop and wonder why this is here or that is over there?  As it stands, does it convey a wholly realized emotional feeling?  Lots of questions.

So, I’m at a terminus and just have to put in some mind time.  Soon it will be done…

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Is there a gas leak  in here?
What the hell is going on lately?
You’ve got Joe Wilson screaming at President Obama.  Serena Williams melts down at the US Open, swearing at and threatening a line judge.   Kanye West jumps the stage at some MTV awards show taking the microphone from the surprised winner and berates the crowd because Beyonce didn’t win.  On Saturday,  thousands  ( not millions, not even hundreds of thousands) marched on Washington, still quivering with anger and screaming that they want their country back and that Muslims were taking over Washington.  Bury Obamacare With Kennedy signs were distributed through the crowd.  Classy.
Last night I flipped on the Yankees game and there on the screen was a writhing mass of players, flailing away at one another.  Base brawl.  This ugly edginess that has been so apparent of late had even reached into the very thing I was hoping would be a refuge from all this craziness.
Why this anger, why now?  I wish I had answers.  There has definitely been a coarsening of society, a loss of the niceties and manners that once defined civil society,  something that has been pointed out a lot lately.   Maybe it’s that people feel they have lost their voice and that the only way to be heard is to scream.  Maybe it’s just the fact that with all media being omnipresent, every word, every act is recorded.  There is no timeout, no stepping back from the glare of  the spotlights to stop and think about the effect of one’s actions.  Every action causes a reaction and suddenly, while one is still dealing with the initial action, there is the reaction to be faced.  And the reaction to that reaction.  And so on and so forth until the universe folds into itself and there is nothing but a great void.

angrymanIs there a gas leak in here?

What the hell is going on lately?

You’ve got Joe Wilson screaming at President Obama. Serena Williams melts down at the US Open, swearing at and threatening a line judge. Kanye West jumps the stage at some MTV awards show taking the microphone from the surprised winner and berates the crowd because Beyonce didn’t win. On Saturday, thousands ( not millions, not even hundreds of thousands) marched on Washington, still quivering with anger and screaming that they want their country back and that Muslims were taking over Washington. Bury Obamacare With Kennedy signs were distributed through the crowd. Classy.

Last night I flipped on the Yankees game and there on the screen was a writhing mass of players, flailing away at one another. Base brawl. This ugly edginess that has been so apparent of late had even reached into the very thing I was hoping would be a refuge from all this craziness.

beckWhy this anger, why now? I wish I had answers. There has definitely been a coarsening of society, a loss of the niceties and manners that once defined civil society, something that has been pointed out a lot lately. Maybe it’s that people feel they have lost their voice and that the only way to be heard is to scream. Maybe it’s just the fact that with all media being omnipresent, every word, every act is recorded. There is no timeout, no stepping back from the glare of the spotlights to stop and think about the effect of one’s actions. Every action causes a reaction and suddenly, while one is still dealing with the initial action, there is the reaction to be faced. And the reaction to that reaction. And so on and so forth until the universe folds into itself and there is nothing but a great void.

Okay, that’s the worst that could happen.  But the fact remains, we are a nation spoiling for a fight at the moment.  Can we simmer down without boiling over?  I don’t know.  Hope so, but the idea of thoughtful, civil discussion on any matter seems like a pipedream at the moment.  Especially given the invective and prodding from guys like Beck and Limbaugh whose very livelihoods depend on this anger and division being kept alive.  I just hope we can all take a breath and  find common ground to stand on.  Let’s just  hope our better angels haven’t flown the coop…

Just remember the words of Voltaire:

Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.

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No One Home

No Way Home

Life’s a voyage that’s homeward bound.

—-Herman Melville

This is a piece that I’ve been working on for the last few days, a 20″ by 24″ canvas.  I’ve spent quite a bit of time just looking at this painting and have felt both happiness and a bittersweet sadness from it.

Perhaps it is that sense of home that many of us seek, that need for a place of our own in the world.   A repository of memories and hopes where we are secure from the prying eyes of the outside world.

There is a real duality in that image, both happy and sad, because the ideal is always fleeting and ephemeral when found.  But still we feel the need to seek.

I don’t know if that makes any sense to anyone living outside my head but that is what I see in this piece.  That sense of dual purpose is actually is what I hope for all my work, to have a work pull up conflicting emotions.  I think it heightens the emotional impact, gives contrast to the dominant feeling.

For me, this piece works on those terms.

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fasanella great strike lawrence 1912

If hard work were such a wonderful thing, surely the rich would have kept it all to themselves.

——Lane Kirkland

On this day, Labor Day, I am showing a a painting from the great American folk primitive  painter Ralph Fasanella, depicting the famed Bread and Roses strike that took place at the textile plants in Lawrence, Massachusetts in 1912.  I thought it fitting that something be shown that is closer to the spirit of this holiday which has faded from the public’s knowledge in recent years.

I was a union member in my first job at a Loblaw’s grocery store when I was sixteen years old and a few years later I was a Teamster at the A&P factory where I was employed for several years.  I was the union steward in my department for the last few years, a position that I took because nobody else wanted the hassle of it and meant that I was protected from being laid off so long as my department was operating.  The hassle came from the fact that there was always an argument to be had, either with company supervisors who tried to twist the rules to their advantage or with co-workers who felt the union didn’t go far enough.  It was a very educational experience.

The image of labor unions over the years has crumbled, perceived now as corrupt and self-serving.  Probably a well deserved image.  But the failings of these unions are the failings of men, the same failings that the company owners possessed that the early unions organized against.  Greed and a lack of empathy for their workers.  It doesn’t take much research to discover that the work conditions of the last 130 or 140 years were deplorable.  Long hours.  Low pay.  Incredibly unsafe conditions.  Dismissal for any reason.  No rights whatsoever.

Today, many view industry as this amiable, father-like figure but don’t realize how much blood was spilled by early union organizers and members to obtain the things we now take for granted as our rights.  Industry did not willingly give up anything to the worker without being forced.  I can imagine what our world would look like without the efforts of our unions.  This very holiday would not exist to have it’s roots forgotten.  The idea of vacations would only exist for the company owners.  The pay scale would be similar to those places on the Earth where many of our jobs have migrated, places that allow the avarice of the companies to override the rights and safety of the workers.  Places where sweatshops still operate, as they once did here.  Places where unschooled children toil in dirty, dank conditions, as they once did here.  Places where the health and safety of the workers is secondary to the profit they provide, as it once was here.

You may despise the unions now for their corruption but make no mistake about it- without them our country would look much different.  And not in a good way…

I will be posting more on Ralph Fasanella in a later post but for more info, check out this book from my friend Paul D’Ambrosio, who is perhaps the foremost authority on Fasanella and his work, Ralph Fasanella’s America.

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Just a Thought

 Mystic Voice The thought manifests as the word;
The word manifests as the deed;
The deed develops into habit;
And habit hardens into character;
So watch the thought and its ways with care,
And let it spring from love
Born out of concern for all beings…

As the shadow follows the body,
As we think, so we become.

  • From the Dhammapada
    Sayings of the Buddha

This immediately brought to mind the current state of public dialogue in this country.  There are those whose thoughts are full of fear and anger that soon manifests as angry words which in turn become angry deeds.  Soon these deeds have become the norm and thereafter becomes who we are.

We need to be careful about how we feed our thoughts, about who we allow to influence us. As we think, so we become.

This was brought to mind by a column this past weekend in the New York Times from Frank Rich, warning of the rising, once more, of domestic terrorism here in the USA.  Irresponsible words  feed other angry, fearful minds.  Long repressed angry deeds are triggered.

Those who shake the trees should be careful- they don’t know what may fall from the branches.

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