Redtree Times

“Free to Breathe‘- At the West End Gallery- SOLD

My soul, be satisfied with flowers,
With fruit, with weeds even; but gather them
In the one garden you may call your own.

― Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac

I tend to agree with the famous line from the poet John Donne that no man is an island, entire of itself. Every person, with only the most extreme exceptions, is in some way connected to the greater body of humanity, both contributing to and being dependent on it. The pandemic of the past year and a half has given ample evidence of our interconnectedness and interdependence.

Yet, I also believe that we need to have a refuge of some sort from being part of the whole of humanity. A place and time where we are sovereign and can feel, if only for a brief time, that we are apart from the thoughts, actions, and influences of others.

A place where we can air our ideas, thoughts, and dreams without the critical eyes, ears, and minds of others. A place where our responsibility is only to ourselves and our own wellbeing.

A place where we are free to simply breathe if that is what we wish. Or need. Sometimes a deep breath in the cool air of open spaces can make you feel like you are free of everything.

So, yes, no man is an island. But sometimes it does one good to be alone on one for a bit.

I wasn’t going to show this painting, Free to Breathe, here originally. It sold before I had a chance to write about it and I wasn’t pleased with my photography on this piece. It has tones of blue and green in it that don’t show well. I have difficulty capturing these specific combinations of colors with my own meager photography skills which is a shame because they often appear in my work. It is definitely one of those paintings, like quite a few of my works, that is quantitatively better to see in person. But I felt it deserved a few words since it’s a piece that I like very much and it carries message that is near and dear to my heart– that we all need space once in a while to think and create for only ourselves. Space to be the only one breathing the air around us.

“Pondering Solitude“– Now at the West End Gallery

I want to live alone in the desert
I want to be like Georgia O’Keeffe
I want to live on the Upper East Side
And never go down in the street

Splendid Isolation
I don’t need no one
Splendid Isolation

–Warren Zevon, Splendid Isolation

Just going to let the late Mr. Zevon take care of it this morning…

“Climb Ever Higher“- Hanging Now at West End Gallery

It was possible in this wonderful city for that nameless little boy -for any of its millions- to have a decent chance to scale the walls and achieve what they wished. Wealth, rank or an imposing name counted for nothing. The only credential the city asked was the boldness to dream. For those who did, it unlocked its gates and its treasures, not caring who they were or where they came from.

― Moss Hart, Act One

I like this passage from the autobiography of playwright Moss Hart. I would like to believe that the boldness to dream was the only thing needed for success.

Of course, you have to add the ability to work harder than many others to achieve that dream along 

Maybe throw in an openness to sharing your dream with others, including those who might either help you achieve that dream or tell you that it will fail.

And that means you must possess the ability to shed the opinions of those who criticize your dream or those who can’t visualize it. Or use than as fuel for the inner fire needed to achieve that dream.

Then add a willingness to fail time and time again.

The boldness to dream gets you to the bottom of the hill. It’s up to you to get up it. There will be those who will recognize what you are trying to do and give you a hand up.

You will see others along the way up that hill, people whose wealth and names and connections have placed them higher on the hill while you were still at the bottom. They have a head start, no doubt. They should be used as targets, milestones that you overcome and pass.

But be courteous to those folks you pass, even the mighty and haughty among them, because at some point you will meet them again. It’s not always a one-way trip. You can try to keep slogging up that hill but sometimes you will have time when  you will slide back down it.

That’s when willpower comes into play. You see, the dream is only realized if you get back up and keep at it.

And when you reach the top of that hill, find the next higher hill and climb it. And if there’s not a hill, make it for yourself.

Well, that’s my pep talk for this Friday. Maybe it felt appropriate because of the Olympics opening taking place tonight. Lot of folks climbing their own high hills there in Japan, even in these difficult times. Just another obstacle for them to overcome.

We should all be so bold in our dreams…

“Night and Time and Place“- Now at the West End Gallery

The past,’ he thought, ‘is linked with the present by an unbroken chain of events flowing one out of another.’ And it seemed to him that he had just seen both ends of that chain; that when he touched one end the other quivered.

― Anton Chekhov, The Witch and Other Stories

I see this new painting, Night and Time and Place, as being about our relationship with time and place. It’s a piece that gives me great pause. In a calming way, mainly because it makes my own little worries and grievances seem insignificant when compared with the vastness of time and space.

But it also makes me realize how interconnected we are with the time and place in which we dwell. We like to think of ourselves as being independent creatures, moving forward free from any connection to the past or any ties to the world outside of our field of vision. We believe that the outer world does not concern us.

But we are, of course, dependent creatures. Even at the most essential level, we depend on a tenuous relationship with the closest star to provide us with heat and light. I say tenuous because it took eons to get to the point where the conditions making up the environment of this planet fed by our Sun could sustain us. And with but a little change in those conditions, our relationship with the Sun be comes much more difficult.

We are also dependent on the Earth for water and food. Again, it took ages to get to a point where the conditions of the water and the food we could eke out would sustain us. We live in a small notch in time that has the ability to sustain our fragile selves.

No, we are not independent, self-sustaining entities in any way. We are are on a chain connected to this place and to the other inhabitants of this planet, as far removed as they may sometimes seem. Our actions and choices affect them and vice versa. We all feel it when the chain is rattled.

And, as Chekhov’s character so aptly put, the past and present are part of that chain. The actions of the past often reverberate down the chain of our history. Like it or not, we will always be part of that chain and would be wise to pay attention when it quivers before moving forward.

All that said, I see this painting as being about feeling at peace with our arrangement with the universe, our dependence on the heat and light of the sun, the tidal power of the moon, the sustaining power of water and food, and of the clean air provided to us.

At peace knowing that our actions have meaning and consequence beyond what we see.

That we are part of this time and place.

Night and Time and Place is part of Through the Trees, my annual solo exhibit now hanging at the West End Gallery in Corning.

“Partners in Peace“- At the West End Gallery

Lead me from death to life, from falsehood to truth.
Lead me from despair to hope, from fear to trust.
Lead me from hate to love, from war to peace.
Let peace fill our hearts, our world, our universe.
Peace. Peace. Peace.

—Peace Prayer, From the Hindu Upanishads

I thought this new painting, part of my current show at the West End Gallery, paired well with the Hindi prayer of peace above. It is a loose translation, of course, of one of several such peace prayers. But its simple directness is on point for me and for how I look at this painting which has a somewhat idyllic naturalism.

A kind of built-in tranquility that comes across easily.

And because it states its case so simply and clearly, I am going to leave it at that this morning. Maybe I will add a song. Here’s Peace Train from Cat Stevens. It was a favorite of mine back in the day and holds up well, both the song and its message.

Not a bad way to start the day.