Catch it. Release It. [on DR Thursday]

“…no one can tell us because life is not something which can be understood from a book.” ~Krishnamurti, Think On These Things

My sketchbook is part diary, part thought-catch-all, part quote repository, …and part sketchbook. And, sometimes the disparate rivers run together. A thought inspires an image, a sketch and a quote collide. Occasionally, on a day that the muse is sleeping or if I stumble into an experimental mood, I paint one of my collisions. And then, generally,  I paint over it. The point of any experiment, in art as well as science, is to find out what works by discovering what does not work. Trailing behind me is a long line of mud, mess, and poor composition. Much of my finished work is the visible layer of a sedimentary strata of experiments.

Like the rest of humanity, I am a seeker. Seeking is the point of a sketchbook or a diary. Reflection. Capturing. Exploration. Elusive mastery. Fickle contentment. Status. Safety.  Agreement. Peace.

We seek these things as if they were destinations. From my long line of mud and mess I’ve learned (and continue to learn) that none of what we seek is achievable. Seeking implies finding but that is a misnomer.  Life moves. Meaning is fluid. There may be answers for a moment but they will, as they must, open greater questions. Or, they will be a borrowed answer, a truth found in a book, lived by the author, celebrated and shared but unincorporated in the reader.

img_3997It is a bird that you hold for a moment. A relationship with something wild. A relationship with yourself. The meaning flutters in your hands, opens you to an experience, and then will die if not released.

A sketchbook, this painting, No One Can Tell Us, is merely a trace left by that fluttering relationship. The top layer.

 

 

 

read Kerri’s blog post on NO ONE CAN TELL US

 

snowpath in bristolwoods website box copy

no one can tell us ©️ 2015 david robinson

 

 

 

Weep [on DR Thursday]

and so he weeps copy

‘and so he weeps.’ a morsel of weeping man

And so the story goes that one day, deep in the forest, Parcival was knocked from his stallion by a warrior who wore no armor. His magic sword, the object that he believed carried all of his power, was shattered. He lay on the ground like a turtle on its back, trapped by the weight of his shiny armor. He was tired of fighting. He was sad that, despite all of his victories, – he’d never been defeated – the world kept getting worse and worse. And so, laying on his back, exhausted from the fight, he stopped struggling. He gave himself over to his death. He let go.

But the nature-warrior disappeared. Parcival, alive but shattered, for the first time in his adult life, stripped off his armor. He dropped what remained of his sword. And, sitting amidst the wreckage of his life, the fragments of his power, he wept. He let go.

There is a path out of the wasteland. It necessarily leads through weeping. Through loss of illusion. P-Tom would call this a sacrament. Joseph Campbell would call it a threshold.

In any case, letting go of the illusion is necessary before the next chapter can begin.

 

 

 

read Kerri’s blog post on WEEPING MAN

 

cropped head kiss website copy

 

weeping man ©️ 2015 david robinson

Ask The Question [on DR Thursday]

palm tree copy

a morsel of Tango With Me. Kerri calls this one ‘Palm Trees.’

I’m proud of Skip. He decided that learning to paint with a palette knife was the best way this year to work on his soul. In my eyes, it is a sure path. He sent photos of his first efforts. Luscious in color and texture, they are abstracts. He showed his efforts to his wife and received the single question that no artist can answer yet it is the first question that every viewer-of-art asks: what is it?

It is the assumption of representation. The need for location. The desire to be told what “it” means. No one wants to be wrong or offend so they ask the artist to provide the interpretation – which will rob the viewer of their own experience. It will short-circuit the relationship between viewer and painting. As Joseph Campbell quipped, ” If the artist doesn’t like you, he (or she) will tell you what it means.”

Color, form, composition, and movement. Art. Abstraction. In a world of individualism, abstractions are capable of telling a different story unique to each individual. They refuse to locate you and, instead, ask you to participate. Make meaning. Don’t seek what is expected, bring to the painting what is evoked.

It creates a tension. It calls us to sit in the paradox of our times. Is there one meaning or many? How is it that people so devoted to self-expression believe they can best express their individualism by shopping together at The Gap?

At the center of potent art, at the bottom of great learning, is the same question: what is it to you?

 

TangoWithMe-Final copy

Tango With Me, mixed media, 39 x 52IN

 

read Kerri’s blog post about PALM TREES

 

 

cheers! shopping in chicago website box copy

tango with me/palm tree ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Reach With Wonder [on DR Thursday]

CloudWatchers morsel 2 copy

“One of the reasons that we wonder is because we are limited, and that limitation is one of the great gateways to wonder.” ~John O’Donohue

I loved this canvas before I painted Cloud Watchers on it. It was old and used. Chunky with layers. I can’t remember how it came to me but I do remember thinking that it was the Velveteen Rabbit of canvas. Loved. Well worn. A long history – that is to say – filled with lots and lots of story. Perfect.

And, how appropriate that it is living a next chapter as Cloud Watchers, part of a series that  I call ‘narrative.’ All narratives – inner and outer – are projections. Life’s stories are image transfers, meaning imposed just like the meaning we place upon the movement of clouds. There’s a duck! Look! There’s a dragon, a dinosaur, an elephant. A fear. A goal. An opinion. Mr Magoo! Belief! There’s Thomas Jefferson! The Buddha.

We reach with wonder from our isolation. We touch through imagination. We are cloud watchers full of story, filling the air with our stories. We are glorious creators all!

 

read Kerri’s blog post about CLOUD WATCHERS

 

star website box copy

 

cloud watchers/morsel ©️ 2002 – 6/2018 david robinson

Walk To The Other Side [on DR Thursday]

BlowingWishes Morsel copy

There is a ping-pong table in my studio that is piled high with paintings that are not yet stretched. And, because these paintings are constantly moving, pulled and tacked to the wall to be shown then placed back in the pile, they are stored with no particular order. This process of random stacking and re-stacking allows us to see the pieces from many different points of view; what was top is now bottom. It affords new perspectives, it helps me see again as if for the first time.

PileIt is such a simple thing and yet so hard to do – to let go of what we think is right, allowing a new perspective of something that we think we understand.  The word I’ve learned to pay attention to is “think.” The skill of an artist is to see beyond what they “think.” The gift of the artist is to help others see beyond what they think. To pop open new perspectives and make space for new possibilities.

It is easy to confuse thinking (interpretation) with ‘seeing.’ They are not the same thing. It is so easy to believe ‘stuck thinking’ is ‘being right.’ It’s a good practice – a healthy practice – to spin things around a bit. To doubt what you think so you might have a more direct experience. So that you might see. So that you might learn. So that you might experience today as different from yesterday.

Life, as they say, is always found in the direction of not knowing.

Kerri calls this morsel BLOWING WISHES. It’s what you see if walk to the other side of the ping-pong table.

 

 

read Kerri’s blog post about BLOWING WISHES

 

warm springs ranch statue website copy

 

 

greet the day/blowing wishes ©️ 2011/2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Use 1000 Words [on DR Thursday]

Horses Morsel copy

Horses FullSize copy

this may or may not be complete. 48″ x 48″ as yet untitled

drc website header copy

read Kerri’s blog post about this PAINTING

 

oversizedjoy copley place website box copy

Make Space [A SALE on DR Thursday]

painting stack copy

What art offers is space — a certain breathing room for the spirit. ~John Updike

I feel most alive when I am painting. If I’m out of my center, upset, in despair, feeling blue, or swimming in a pool of self-pity, the quickest cure, the best medicine, is a trip to the studio. Life makes sense there. The conversations I have with canvas are not always easy but they are always generative. Love is like that.

And, like most artists, I love to paint but feel utterly inept when it comes to selling what I paint. Introverts are notoriously lousy salespeople. Inevitably, things stack up.

Give me a museum and I’ll fill it. ~Pablo Picasso

I am at least one museum short and need to clear some space. In the old days I would burn paintings, paint over them or give them away but nowadays Kerri would kill me if I tried any of those space-making strategies. Dying at my wife’s hands to create space seems counter-productive. She suggested A Sale.

The days you work are the best days. ~Georgia O’Keeffe

My best days are yet to come. A new wave of inspiration is rolling in.

One’s art goes as far and as deep as one’s love goes. ~Andrew Wyeth

When you visit my site, you’ll see that I’ve listed some minimum prices. If you see a painting you love, reach for it. Make an offer.

The chief enemy of creativity is ‘good’ sense. ~Pablo Picasso

And so. Love runs deep. It makes no sense. The best things in life never do.

The No Sense No Space Sale.

art sale december 2018 copy

read Kerri’s blog post about THE SALE

k&dbw backs website box_ copy