Redtree Times

By persisting in your path, though you forfeit the little, you gain the great.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson, Friendship (1841)

Democracy in this nation seems to have been just barely hanging on in recent times, under constant threat from those hoarders of money and power who seek total control over our lives. Democracy was much like the old man in the scene above from Monty Python and the Holy Grail who is being hauled to the death cart while still protesting that he is not dead yet.

But while the cartman ultimately made sure the old man was dead, yesterday came as a reprieve democracy.

It is not dead yet.

Oh, there is still grave peril in the form of a waiting cartman milling about, willing to put an end to it with a sharp blow.

But the elections yesterday all across the nation were a pointed rebuke of Trumpism’s quest for domination. In the headline races for Mayor of NYC and the governorships of New Jersey and Virginia, the Trump-endorsed candidates were easily and soundly thumped.

In California, Prop 50, which calls for redistricting of the state in response the partisan gerrymandering currently underway in Texas, passed by a huge and non-competitive 2-1 margin.

But beyond these headlines, other Democratic victories were equally astounding. Trump also endorsed 53 down ballot candidates in New Jersey and Virginia. All 53 were defeated.

In Georgia, Democrats hadn’t won a statewide race for a federal office since 2006. Last night, they won two, defeating GOP incumbents by nearly 2-1 margins.

And in Mississippi— yes, Mississippi– Democrats flipped two seats in the state senate, breaking the GOP’s supermajority there.

And in Pennsylvania, the retention votes for three Democrat members of the state’s Supreme Court were not close. All three Justices were retained by huge margins.

[Late additions: Colorado voters approved a ballot measure that would raise state income taxes on higher-earning households to fund free meals for all public-school students. And in Connecticut, a huge number of towns flipped to Democratic control. And the Dems flip NY’s Onondaga & Dutchess counties, a first in decades, and PA’s Luzerne County, a county which is hardly a bastion of liberalism. Also in PA, Erie County voted out the GOP county executive in favor of the Dem challenger.]

I am sure there are more that I just haven’t got to yet. It was a needed shot of adrenaline for a democracy that has been too close to the death cart for a while now.

No, we are not dead yet.

But there’s still a dangerous and demented old man with a club waiting to end it all if we let down our guard for even a second.

After such a humiliating and stunning rebuke, he is going to be even more anxious and panicky, seeking some way to take attention from the beatdowns suffered in his name. Look for distractions of all shapes and sizes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he escalates his vendetta against Venezuela and starts a conflict there of some sort or tries to baselessly invoke the Insurrection Act here, moving troops to even more American cities.

He is going to do anything he can– and I mean anything–to prevent a repeat of last night’s result in next year’s midterm elections. The only things he will not do are change his course, compromise, negotiate, or work to serve all the people of this nation.

Cruelty and leveraged domination are the only tools in his pathetic toolbelt. They are that club in his hand. He will without a doubt use that club freely.

Yes, it was a great night for democracy. We have been spared being heaved on the cart. But it cannot end here. Celebrate now but gird your loins. This was just the preliminary bout. We must have a winning streak that results in victories in the marquee matchups in 2026 and 2028.

If not, we could end up in the heap. Let’s work even harder to keep that winning streak alive.

To paraphrase Emerson: Persistence gains the greater reward.

Here’s a song in that vein from Glen Hansard.

These words from Adolph Gottlieb, the late Abstract Expressionist painter, ring true for me. I believe that art should acknowledge the presence of powerful forces that guide our lives, good or bad. As he points out, it is this awareness that fueled the myths and symbology that have lived with us since time immemorial.

For me, it is displayed in the underlying darkness of much of my work which is evident in even my most optimistic works. This darkness gives the work, at least to my way of seeing it, a sense of tension, a counterbalance that keeps the work centered. The most optimistic work still has a wariness in this darkness that acknowledges the dangers ahead and the hardships endured in the past.

Triumph of any sort is seen as a transient emotion, one that is to be savored in the moment and recalled in the future but short-lived in the present. The darkness is always hovering nearby, presenting a potential threat or a challenge or even a dramatic change that comes with both the possibility of utter defeat or a new triumph. It is this mystery that makes the darkness so appealing and necessary.

The paragraphs above were written and posted here in 2018.

I was going to take a break today from writing but came across this post which, in turn, reminded me of a passage that I had recently encountered from author John Steinbeck. In a letter to his friend and publisher Pascal Covici on New Year’s Day in 1941. The war in Europe was widening and threatening to become a World War as the US vacillated on entering the fray. It was time fraught with peril and darkness.

Steinbeck writes:

“And speaking of the happy new year, I wonder if any year ever had less chance of being happy. It’s as though the whole race were indulging in a kind of species introversion — as though we looked inward on our neuroses. And the thing we see isn’t very pretty.

(…)

So we go into this happy new year, knowing that our species has learned nothing, can, as a race, learn nothing — that the experience of ten thousand years has made no impression on the instincts of the million years that proceeded. Maybe you can find some vague theology that will give you hope. Not that I have lost any hope. All the goodness and the heroisms will rise up again, then be cut down again and rise up. It isn’t that the evil thing wins — it never will — but that it doesn’t die. I don’t know why we should expect it to. It seems fairly obvious that two sides of a mirror are required before one has a mirror, that two forces are necessary in man before he is man. I asked Paul de Kruif [microbiologist and writer] once if he would like to cure all disease and he said yes. Then I suggested that the man he loved and wanted to cure was a product of all his filth and disease and meanness, his hunger and cruelty. Cure those and you would have not man but an entirely new species you wouldn’t recognize and probably wouldn’t like.”

Steinbeck was basically saying that that our humanity consists of two opposing sides– good and evil– and that both are intertwined with the other in the character. One cannot look in a mirror and not see the other. Two sides of a mirror, as he put it.

As a result, neither good nor evil can ever fully triumph forever. Neither a utopian nor a dystopian society has an indefinite shelf life.

There is a balance which exists where the two side of the mirror meet.

And as much as I would love to see good triumph and for evil to be forever eradicated, I find hope, like Steinbeck, in simply knowing that evil can only be temporarily victorious. It has always been that way and always will.

Shadows need the light in order to exist.

I mention this because we talked a bit about this at the Gallery Talk the other day, how art depends on that balance of light and darkness. I feel my best work emerges when I am fully aware of the darker side of our character still hovering nearby even in those better times when I am expressing feelings of optimism and hope in my work.

In good times, the presence of darkness serves as reminder of the temporary nature of all feelings as well as our existence.

And in darker times, it acts as call to arms for those who live by the light. A call to rise up and drive back darkness to the isolated and underlying shadows where it belongs.

Back to its own side of the mirror…

RedTree: Continuum— At West End Gallery

Generosity is nothing else than a craze to possess. All which I abandon, all which I give, I enjoy in a higher manner through the fact that I give it away. To give is to enjoy possessively the object which one gives.

― Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness (1943)

Well, the Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery took place yesterday. From my point of view, I thought it went pretty well, all things considered. There were some laughs, plenty of questions, gifts given, and I think most folks had a pretty good time.

I know that I did.

My critique? There were a lot of things I wish I had been able to state in a clearer manner and some that I just didn’t get to. There were some answers that I left incomplete before moving on as well as things said that might have better off left unsaid and things unsaid that probably should have been said. It was a littler scattershot and awkward at times but that is just a fairly accurate reflection of myself.

Self-criticism aside, I thoroughly enjoyed the hour or so I was able to spend with such a wonderful group of folks. I can offer no criticism of yesterday’s group, only praise. They were fun and attentive. Fully engaged and willing to jump in to hold me up when I seemed to be sinking.

My appreciation for those folks who were willing to spend a little time with me at the gallery yesterday is boundless. The boost and inspiration they provide for me in the aftermath of these events is incalculable.

The life of an artist is often a solitary venture Mine certainly is. There are times in this solitariness when one can suffer immense self-doubts about the validity and relevancy of one’s work. Interacting with the group yesterday was like a balm for such ailments.

I tried to explain yesterday about how, even though there are paintings and things given away during these talks, I am the one who really receives the most from the giving that takes place. I don’t know that I did a good job in doing so yesterday. I may never be able to fully explain this, but it remains a fact. I receive so much; their warmth, their kindness, and the inspiration that lingers long after the talk is over.

The joy and the comfort they provide.

And in these days, those are precious commodities.

They may not realize it, but the folks there were the real givers yesterday.

Thank you one and all. I am humbled by your generosity.

And thank you Jesse and Linda Gardner for the ridiculous amount of work you put into these events to make them seem easy and effortless. I can’t thank you enough.

Here’s this week’s Sunday Morning Music. It’s fittingly titled Who Will Comfort Me from jazz singer Melody Gardot.  After suffering traumatic injuries after being hit by an SUV while riding her bike at age 19, Gardot used music as the driving force for her long recovery and is an advocate for music therapy.

Come on, come on and surry down to a stoned soul picnic
Surry down to a stoned soul picnic (Can you surry, can you picnic?)
There’ll be lots of time and wine
Red yellow honey, sassafras and moonshine
Red yellow honey, sassafras and moonshine
Stoned soul, stoned soul, whoa

— Laura Nyro, Stoned Soul Picnic

Just a reminder this morning and a song. The two are connected in a loose kind of way.

The reminder is that my annual GALLERY TALK takes place at the WEST END GALLERY TODAY, Saturday, November 1. The talk BEGINS at 11 AM. Seating is limited so it is suggested that you arrive a little early to grab a seat and to register for the DRAWING for the PAINTING, Dare to Know, shown below.

And maybe some other stuff. Who knows?

The Gallery Talk is, as always, free and open to everyone.

The song is Stoned Soul Picnic from the late, great Laura Nyro. Written in 1968 it became a hit for the 5th Dimension in that same year. The loose connection between this song and the Gallery Talk is in what I hope will be the vibe of the talk today– easy going, relaxed, and flowing.

FYI, when asked what was the meaning of the word surry, used throughout the song and a source of consternation for some folks, Laura Nyro replied, “Oh, it’s just a nice word.” I like that though I tend to lean towards it being a contraction of Let’s Hurry.

Either way, Surry Down to the West End Gallery this morning. And yes, there will be red yellow honey, sassafras and moonshine…

The Devil holds the strings which move us!
In repugnant things we discover charms;
Every day we descend a step further toward Hell,
Without horror, through gloom that stinks.

— Charles Baudelaire, To the Reader in Les Fleurs du Mal (The Flowers of Evil) (1861)

Is today Halloween? It’s hard to tell these days since every day sees our streets filled with masked goblins swooping in and whisking kids away. It sometimes feels like every day is Halloween now, only darker and much more dangerous.

But still wanting to recognize the holiday as it once was, I went looking for something a bit Halloween-ish. I dipped into French author Charles Baudelaire‘s controversial 1861 book of poetry The Flowers of Evil and found something of interest on the first page.

The verse both struck my fancy and was topical, as well. It basically describes how the Devil tempts us with things ugly and loathsome, pulling us deeper and deeper into the depths of Hell and all the while we barely notice though the sight and stench of death and horror is all around us.

In our glee for the awful we begin to normalize the aberrant and indecent while at the same time demonize that which was once the accepted normal. 

Sounds familiar, right? 

It might not be totally in the spirit of today’s holiday that we recognize, but it is scary. I guess every day in Hell is Halloween, only with the emphasis on the trick part rather than the treat.

Could that be right? You tell me.

In my research I came across a post from several years back that featured these photographic oddities. I thought they would be fitting companions for Baudelaire’s words. These images are intended for the stereoscope which was invented in Paris in 1850 and became a worldwide sensation over the next decade with its three-dimensional imagery. In 1861, a series of 72 of these stereoscopic photos were printed anonymously in Paris that consisted of macabre scenes of Satan and various aspects of Hell.  Called Les Diableries, these plates were a drastic turn away from the often-mundane photos seen in early stereoscopes and were quite the hit in 1860’s Paris.

The photos remained anonymous in that time because they were viewed as politically satiric of the French government of the time, the Second Empire under Napoleon III. To openly chide the emperor at that time could bring swift retribution (this also sounds familiar, huh?) but the images circulated freely, nonetheless. I think they are a remarkable set of images from that time, and I can imagine how they must have resonated in the minds of people who weren’t exposed to the mind-boggling array of imagery that we often experience in a single day in our time on social media.

When I look at them closely, I can recognize satiric parallels to our current time. Unfortunately, it doesn’t feel as humorous as I had thought it might. Not a lot of laughs in Hell, I guess.

Keeping in the theme of a devilish Halloween, here’s a song from Chris McDermott called Even the Devil Gets Right Someday. Let’s hope the song is correct. 

Hoping you have a good and Hell-free Halloween.

Finally, here’s a reminder that I will be giving my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery tomorrow, Saturday, November 1. The talk begins at 11 AM and lasts about an hour, ending with the drawing for the painting, Dare to Know, shown at the bottom of this page. The Gallery Talk and the drawing for the painting are free and open to all. You must be in attendance to win prize. Seating is limited so I would suggest you arrive early to claim your seat and settle in. We can chat or you can take in the exhibit. Doors Open at 10:30 AM.

Land of Amity— At West End Gallery

“Art is such a relief to us because, actually, it’s the real world — it’s the reality that we understand on a deeper level… Life has an inside as well as an outside, and at the present, the outside of life is very well catered for, and the inside of life not at all… We can go back to books or pictures or music, film, theater, and we can find there both some release and some relief for our inner life, the place where we actually live, the place where we spend so much time.”

–Jeanne Winterson, speaking at 2010 Edinburgh Book Festival

I have long referred to my inner and outer worlds as places of equal reality. In fact, my 2012 exhibit at the Fenimore Museum featured just that in its title, The Internal Landscape. I really like this explanation from British author Jeanne Winterson, pointing out that while our inner life is the place where we actually live and spend so much of our time, it is often neglected in favor of care bestowed on our outer life.

This is not to say that we should not take great care of our outer world. It is, after all, one of the realities in which we exist. Rather, there should be more balance in our treatment of both.

Actually, I am probably the opposite, catering to my inner life more than most. This has most likely led to an imbalance that is a bit unhealthy. But that might be the only way I can navigate the outer landscape.

The inner world, inner life, inner landscape– whatever you want to call it– is indeed a relief for me from the outer world. It is a kinder and gentler place, open and friendly to all. I have more control there (or here, depending on from where you’re standing) and can add or subtract to suit my perception of the landscape.

Of course, this inner world is not immune from the reach of the outer world. There are shadows and underlying darknesses that seep through, enough to let me know that it is still out there waiting for me. But I never allow it to fully infiltrate my inner refuge. That’s part of the control I mentioned.

Sometimes when I find myself stranded in the outer world for an extended period of time that tests my endurance, I can quickly find my way back to my inner landscape by seeing, hearing, or reading something that moves me.

Maybe that is movement that is meant when people say they are moved?

Maybe. All I can say definitively is that it instantly transports me back to that inner space of color and rhythm and harmony. It makes my time in the outer world somewhat bearable.

Relief and Refuge.

The other thing that I like about my inner world is that I can do what I do, painting and speaking and writing in ways that might be called crazy by some in the outer world, unabashedly and without a second thought.

My place, my rules. You have your own inner place to tend to so, unless you want to join me in a bit kinder and gentler place, keep your hands off of mine.

REMINDER

I WILL BE GIVING A GALLERY TALK

AT THE WEST END GALLERY

THIS COMING SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2025. BEGINNING AT 11 AM

SEATING IS LIMITED. THE DOORS OPEN AT 10:30 AM. IT IS SUGEESTED THAT YOU ARRIVE EARLY AND THAT YOU BRING A QUESTION OR TWO WITH YOU. THERE WILL BE A QUIZ. WELL, MAYBE NOT THAT BUT SOMETHING’S GOING TO HAPPEN. I PROMISE.