One Year After

It has been a year since my heart attack. Since my cardiac arrest. Since the trauma I don’t remember and that my family saw. Since members of my family kept me alive until the EMTs arrived. Since the radical changes of diet and lifestyle. Since the shift in horizon.

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Three days before that I lost my big sister; a life of incredible value and service, gone. Two months afterward my estranged step-father died; a life wasted in self-concern and alcohol.

How would people have summed up my life one year later, if it ended that night?

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Since I didn’t go, I have to assess it myself. I know my life has been valuable. I know I have taken deep draughts of experience and thought. I have been astonished. I have been disappointed. I have known love and sacrifice. I have seen things that made me cry in sorrow and weep in happiness. I have tried and failed, then barely hoped and succeeded. I have yearned and yearned, in spite of cheesiness or irony. I have worked so hard and received so much through no merit of my own doing. I have believed and doubted. All through I have attempted to be honorable and careful, passionate and present. Sometimes I have succeeded.

img_0200I am SIMUL IUSTUS ET PECCATOR.

I am AGATHOKAKOLOGICAL.

I have tried to understand what it all means. I still don’t. But I think I have some sense of how it feels.

~

It feels a little like these songs (click the titles to listen):

 

At Last

I can say that I’ve lived here in honor and danger

But I’m just an animal and cannot explain a life

Down this chain of days I wish to stay among my people

Relation now means nothing, having chosen so defined

And if death should smell my breathing

As it pass beneath my window

Let it lead me trembling, trembling

I own every bell that tolls me.

 

Fox Confessor Brings The Flood

Driving home I see those flooded fields

How can people not know what beauty this is?

I’ve taken it for granted my whole life

Since the day I was born.

Clouds hang on these curves like me

And I kneel to the wheel

Of the fox confessor (on splendid heels).

And he shames me from my seat

And on my guilty feet

I follow him in retreat…

What purpose in these deeds?

Oh fox confessor, please,

Who married me to these orphaned blues?

“It’s not for you to know, but for you to weep and wonder

When the death of your civilization precedes you.”

Will I ever see You again?

Will there be no one above me to put my faith in?

I flooded my sleeves as I drove home again.

 

A Widow’s Toast

Specters move like pilot flames

Their widows toast at St. Angel.

Better times collide with now

The tears are warm, I feel them still.

They’ll heat to vapor and disperse

And cloud our eyes with weary glaze.

You raise your glass and may exclaim,

“I’ll put my hands on the truth, by God!”

But it’s faster, love, than you and me –

Faster than the speed of gravity.

That’s how it catches you from falling

And how it always, always, always slips away.

Specters move like pilot flames

Their widows toast at St. Angel.

Better times collide with now

And better times

And better times

Are coming still.

Neko knows what to say.

~

I find attention, clarity, and rightness in teaching. I find wonderful confusion in my art-making. I find solace and laughter in my wife. I find a strange wine of joy and frustration in my children. I feel both lost and found. I feel both at home (warm, in bed), and far away in the dark (clouds, wind). I’m in orbit around a great truth and yet my tether is strung out miles from safety.

Believe it or not, all of this is so much better than the 3 or 4 years before the heart attack.

I know that some would want me to declare something, some truth, some more faithful words, some thoughts that sound more spiritually centered. I’m sorry.

Today, I want to take the lessons – the cumulative astonishments of being – as they come. I want to have joy and camaraderie in my students. I want to be gentle and full of wonder with my children. I want to continue to cherish my wife. I want to be a better husband, father, son, brother, artist, teacher, mentor, helper, and friend.

No regrets. I have not loved every moment, but I have been given such grace and love. I’m thankful.

~

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A Couple Early 2017 Highlights

This Friday, a show of my collaborative works created with the great Joel T. Dugan goes up in Brooklyn, at es ef eff gallery. Head over to 893 Bergen Street at 7pm this Friday, February 17.


Above: a work from the exhibition, “Crest” – Acrylic, oil, pastel, colored pencil, and graphite with woodblock printing on paper mounted on panel. 11 by 11 inches, 2016-2017.

I’m also pleased to share that the Manifest Gallery painting anthology I was selected for has finally been published. It’s a beautiful volume (buy it here).



Above: one of my personal favorite paintings, beautifully reproduced. The INPA6 book features some amazing work by a lot of great artists, as well as friends and colleagues… like Nathan Sullivan and Melanie Johnson:


Above: detail of a Nathan Sullivan work from the book. Below: Melanie Johnson’s included work.


Pretty cool stuff! I’m thankful! There are a number of additional events happening this year that I will share soon – exciting times!

Stations of the Cross Project

Back in November of 2016, I bid on a commission at a cathedral, calling for an exploration of the Stations of the Cross. It has been a number of years since I created a series of works based on a biblical theme (I tend to do this every few years or so) and I wanted to at least feel out the idea a bit.

While I did not get the commission, I have continued to develop the work from the proposal. Below are a bunch of the pieces in progress. Each is made on an iPad Pro using an Apple Pencil in the ProCreate App. What I’ve done in these works is dovetail my own research of Eastern and Western Mandala forms into an exploration of Giandomenico Tiepolo‘s Via Crucis from San Polo in Venice (Click through here to see examples of his works).

Here are 6 of the 14 images, in progress:

img_1448Stations of the Cross #6 – Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus. Digital painting, 2016-2017.

img_1446Stations of the Cross #5 – Simon Helps Jesus Carry the Cross. Digital painting, 2016-2017.

img_1445Stations of the Cross #13 – Jesus Removed From the Cross and His Body Returned to Mary. Digital painting, 2016-2017.

img_1444Stations of the Cross #12 – Jesus Dies on the Cross. Digital painting, 2016-2017.

img_1447Stations of the Cross #1 – Jesus Sentenced to Death. Digital painting, 2016-2017.

img_1443Stations of the Cross #14 – Entombment of Christ. Digital painting, 2016-2017.

By investigating the color and composition of Tiepolo’s work without reproducing the details, I hope to draw out the relationship these works have with the tradition of contemplative spiritual works the world over. It is also humbling to realize that the source paintings were made when Tiepolo was around 20 years old. I see these as his MFA Thesis work, definitive proof of his mastery.

Having visited these paintings in person – more than 10 years ago – I still recall how astounding they were. Not as large as Tintoretto. Not as graceful as Bellini. Not as mystical as Piero de Cosimo. Not as abstract as Uccello.  But they hold their own as an expression of an artist growing into this own power and getting ready to pivot into his own realms of glory.

My aim for my versions of the Via Crucis paintings is to print them in large format (potentially to scale with their Tiepolo counterparts) then paint back into them, further developing the color and compositional shaping.