Say It [on DR Thursday]

Icarus-detail2 copy 2

Icarus flew too close to the sun. The heat melted the wax that held together his wings and he fell to his death. A monumental occurrence. And nobody noticed, so distracted were they by the gossip of the day and the many tasks on their lists. There were clues that something happened. There were feathers everywhere, little bits of wax.

The word distraction has two meanings: 1) diversion, and 2) delirium. ICARUS is the closest thing to a political/social statement that I’ve ever painted. It was painted in the early years of this century and, these days, is as relevant as the day I felt compelled to “say something.”

Like Icarus, the painting fell unnoticed into the stacks in the basement. Feathers and wax. Something happened. But, as Arnie taught me, sometimes it is not really as important to be heard as it is to say-in-paint what’s troubling your mind.

Icarus-withEdge copy 2

icarus, acrylic on canvas, 30.5 x 59.5

 

read Kerri’s blog post about ICARUS

 

 

skylake website box copy

 

icarus ©️ circa 2005, david robinson

Fly Between The Poles [on DR Thursday]

Angel Morsel copy

a morsel from ‘angel.’ kerri calls it ‘you can’t hold the sun’

Icarus‘ wings were made of wax and feathers. His father, Daedalus, made them so he and Icarus could escape their imprisonment. Before taking flight, Daedalus warned Icarus not to fly too low nor too high. Icarus flew too close to the sun, the wax melted and his wings fell apart. He fell from the sky and drowned.

We see most of the Greek stories sifted through a post-Greek moralistic lens. Fly to high, hubris. Fly too low, complacency. The world as defined by polarities. Heaven, hell. Good, bad. Right, wrong. There’s another possibility.

Quinn used to tell me that the point of all the world’s religions, the message in all the great stories, is to find the middle way. To live in the center. This world, he said, will try its best to tug you to the extremes. It will dose you with propaganda, half truths. It will glorify US and demonize THEM. It will bamboozle you into twisted notions like ‘the dehumanization of others is okay.’ It is the lucky person that realizes that it is impossible to strip others of their humanity without also losing their own. Polarities are like that.

So, seek balance. Walk between the tug of the poles. It is the point of presence – live here, not in the scary future nor the regrettable past. Fly, not too close to either pole, but through the middle. Now. It’s possibly the point of the story.

This morsel is called You Can’t Hold The Sun. It’s true. You can’t stop time. No moth can withstand the flame. The sun will melt your waxy wings. The sea will make your feathers heavy with dew. Either way, you fall.

In the face of too much moralizing, Kerri will say, “If it’s not about kindness or joy, it’s not about anything.” That’s a statement from the center. I like to think that this center place, this middle way that Quinn told me about, is what we call love.

 

 

 

 

www.kerrianddavid.com

 

you can’t hold the sun/angel ©️ 2018/2004 David Robinson