Look For The Mountain [On DR Thursday]

A mountain morsel for this DR Thursday from studio melange.

Kerri laughed her most devious laugh when I asked, “Where does this morsel come from?” I didn’t recognize it as a slice from any of my  paintings. I usually know immediately where the morsel comes from. This one baffled me.

“Guess,” she said, laughing that laugh again. I knew I was in trouble.

Usually, when I hear this particular devious laugh, I look behind me. Or, I check to see if she is clutching cleverly concealed water balloons. DogDog knows this laugh, too. It means he will have to work very hard, go through all of his tricks, probably twice, before getting the cookie that she holds just above his reach.  He always looks to me for support and I tell him, “You are on your own, Dogga.”  I know better than to redirect her brat impulses on to me.

And so, like DogDog, I guessed. And guessed again. And again. I did tricks. I searched my folio site. With each wrong guess, her pleasure at my bewilderment increased, her laughter goading me on. I looked to DogDog for help. He dropped to the floor and pretended to be sleeping. I was on my own.

Finally, exhausted, beyond begging, she dropped a tiny hint. The painting no longer exists.

Thanks to Skip I’ve made it a practice of taking process shots which means Kerri has made it a practice of mining my process shots. Many of my paintings don’t make it to the finish line. They are either not composed well, are ill conceived from the start, or I overwork them and have to scrub them and start over. Sometimes they serve as rough drafts and i abandon them when I see the better path. This morsel comes from one of those – a painting that did not make it. It was poorly laid out. It broke the rule of thirds (and I didn’t want to cut the canvas to correct the problem).

Kerri jumped up and down with joy when I put it together. She knew that she was going to re-introduce a painting to me. She knew, given the right framing, I’d see the beauty of the unfinished piece. So, the morsel: Mountain in Yellow Sky. And, for my purposes, the beauty in the loose painting that no longer exists: Together On The Beach.

 

It is potent blow-back to help me see the old anew. When I said, “I think I need to learn to stop painting sooner, to redefine for myself what is a rough draft and what is not.” she laughed that laugh again. The trouble I am in is so much bigger than I understand.

 

 

 

 

 

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mountain in yellow sky/on the beach ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

No Words. Just Thanks.

thank you

Go On A Fool’s Errand

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“I paint the way some people write their autobiography. The paintings, finished or not, are the pages of my journal, and as such are valid. The future will choose the pages it prefers. It is not up to me to make the choice.” ~ Pablo Picasso

 

 

The further I walk down this life path, the more I identify with this quote. A younger version of me would have thought it interesting but not much more. A younger version of me wouldn’t have admitted to trying to pre-determine the choice for the future; trying to determine what others see. A forgivable fool’s-errand as I am certain I am not alone in my folly.

There is a flip side to my fool’s-errand. There are things I see in the paintings that no one on earth will ever see. I am the channel. It is the privilege of being an artist to express from personal experience what cannot be fully expressed, only approximated. And, in the attempt to fully express the personal (another fool’s-errand!), a common ground is created – art is a universal meeting place, a crossroads. It’s a paradox. It is also a truth: individuals create common ground through the experiences they share and the stories they tell about those experiences. Society is a creation just as a painting is a creation. Society is an expression just as a painting is an expression.

The future will choose the pages it prefers because it will choose the pages it relates to, the pages it understands, the pages that inspire, remind, or give pause.

For me, at this point in my autobiography, it is enough to paint without regard to validity or investment in value of my paintings. It is enough to discover yet another facet of my life as an art-fool on errands .

See Art Everywhere

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Together we read the local paper every morning. Yesterday there was an essay from the executive director of a new ‘creative space’ making a case, financial and otherwise, for why the community should value and support the arts. Everything he wrote was true. Everything he wrote has already, as Kerri likes to say, fallen into the moat.

Fifteen years ago I might have written that essay. I am an artist and need no case made for the necessity and essential nature of “the arts.” However…. In a past life I consulted with schools and many times found myself in the position of lobbying the school board to support arts programs. I jumped up and down making a case for the arts and rarely achieved my desired result. Until, one day, a word-angel grabbed my tongue and instead of using that mystical word “arts,” I replaced it with the phrase “experiential learning.” Doors blew opened. Angels sang. Kids made movies, painted paintings, held poetry slams, wrote musicals, made plays…came alive. And learned.

Our mistake is “to make a case” for the arts. Our mistake is to define it narrowly, relegate it to museums. It is not a separate thing. It is everything. It is everywhere. The design of our cars and blenders is an aesthetic as well as an engineering process. The apps on our phones (the very design of our phones) requires artistic as well as technical skill. Every piece of marketing that clogs our streams requires an artistic sensibility. We live in age of narrative, of artificial intelligence, of imagination run rampant. We story ourselves on Facebook and Instagram and share our pins on Pinterest. Step back and listen to the competing narratives we call The News. Listen not to the content of the question but how it is asked; these things are not accidental, they are designed, targeted to influence and move our imaginations. The “arts” are not lofty nor dusty, they are throbbing, vibrant, and central to every nuance of our lives. Why do we insist on  keeping them in such a tiny little box?

Stephen asked me more than once, “Why don’t people value the arts?”  He is a prolific painter, brilliant, and exhausted from living on the margins. “They do,” I’d say, “they just don’t know it.”

Kerri and I said goodbye to a few more paintings yesterday. They found their right home and that is more than gratifying.  It is the moment of completion of the painting (or the play or the composition…or the car, couch, and coffee mug) when it finds an audience or its home. It’s a life cycle, deeply connected. It is everything. It is everywhere.

From A Distance [DR Thursday]

The first photograph of our planet Earth was taken by the crew of  Apollo 17 in 1972. The Blue Marble. Living. Vibrant. Moving. Alive. Fragile. Uncontrollable. Spiritual. Our home. Sometimes I think that the plethora of seemingly insurmountable issues that plague our discourse (our lives), divide our nations, and choke our news feeds are only possible because this photograph is forgotten. Or denied. We are the first humans in the history of humans to (literally) have this global perspective which makes us the first humans in the history of humans to ignore what we know. It’s all connected. We are all connected. It’s impossible to see from the ground but oh, so easy to see from space.

from a distance TOTE BAG copy

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Roger once told me that, in his opinion, denial was perhaps the single most powerful force driving the human condition. Today I’d make an argument for hubris. Or, perhaps one needs to be fully steeped in denial to be so full of hubris. The very notion that we story ourselves as stewards of Earth seems misguided, arrogant – especially given our capacity to step out into space and look back at our home, our selves.  As P-Tom recently said, nowadays we measure the trash field in the ocean in units of countries (3 Frances). Stewards would, I hope, do a better job. More humble stewards might at least recognize what is apparent in the photograph: it’s all connected. We participate, we do not own.

This week marks the 48th Earth Day and what I find remarkable is the first Earth Day was celebrated a full two years before the first photograph of Earth.  I find that oddly hopeful. Perhaps we don’t need a global perspective to entertain the notion that our actions have impact.

from a distance FRAMED PRINT copyIt’s funny. I’ve coached many, many people – all searching for meaning and the desire to know that their lives and actions matter. They fear that they lack impact.  The advice I never gave (a good coach does not advise): leave the city lights so you might see the stars. Recognize what you are seeing. Recognize how small you are and how glorious it is merely to be alive. Instead of trying to distinguish your self above all others, maybe take a look at the Blue Marble and realize just how connected you already are. You are immediate, impermanent. Perhaps in that recognition you will also realize your meaning.

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FROM A DISTANCE reminder/merchandise:

from a distance LEGGINGS copy

kerri’s design from my painting

from a distance MUG copy

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from a distance SQ PILLOW copyfrom a distance FLOOR PILLOW copy

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earth interrupted V: from a distance ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Find The Doorway In [It’s DR Thursday]

A Doorway In for your Thursday from studio melange.

THISthedoorwayin FRAMED jpeg copy

You learn a lot about yourself combing through old sketchbooks. For instance, I am not a religious person but was gobsmacked to discover that in my life I’ve done hundreds of drawings on the theme of Jacob wrestling with the angel. Why? I had to research the story to have context for the images I’d drawn.

the doorway FRAMED ART copyThe other theme that populates my sketchbooks is much more conscious. It is… (wait for it…) Polynices and Eteocles. In Greek mythology they are the sons of Oedipus who, rather than share power, kill each other. It is my visual rumination on contemporary politics in America. Here’s the catch. Every time I attempt to translate my drawings of combat into a painting, the process leads me to a loving statement, Shared Fatherhood. I’ve made two runs at it. There are now two versions of my warring brothers turned to adoring parents. What!?

Kerri loves my Shared Fatherhood paintings. She has no idea of their sketchy origin. So, when she chose this week’s morsel from the first Shared Fatherhood painting, exclaiming, “I love this image! I think we should call it The Doorway In!” It jarred me a bit. The Doorway In. She is ever positive.

Shared Fatherhood

the first version of Shared Fatherhood, 39.5 x 51IN

I delight in the notion that in my visual meditation, through my hundreds of drawings on warring brothers, I am so incapable of arriving at a painting of mutual annihilation. It is a tired, old story. Rather, my muses, my sketchbooks, lead me to stories of hope for the future and images of quiet adoration. A doorway in.

SharedFatherhood2

a second version,  Shared Fatherhood, 25.5 x 40.5 IN

THE DOORWAY IN reminders/merchandise

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the doorway in SQ PILLOW copy   the doorway in FLOOR PILLOW copy

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leggings

the doorway CARDS copy

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the doorway in/shared fatherhood 1 & 2 ©️ 2017, 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

DR Thursday

layered meditation with frame jpeg copy

kerri calls this morsel, Layered Meditation. a perfect name as it comes from my painting, Meditation.

I believe that every moment of life is a meditation, conscious or otherwise. Your current meditation may be about the anxiety of  having enough money to pay the bills. It may be about the frustration of being stuck in traffic – again. It might be about a perceived injustice; blame meditations dominate most of our inner monologues. Of course, you might also be meditating about what to get at the grocery store or what to plant in the garden this year. You might be meditating about how to make life better for your children. Not all meditations are worrisome. Generally, we dedicate a small sliver of the meditation pie chart to the generative.

And, that’s really the point. We choose where we place our thoughts, we decide where we aim our focus. It is a dedication, not a runaway train.

One of my favorite moments in Carlos Castaneda’s book, The Teachings of Don Juan, happens when the master, Don Juan, refuses to place any value in the continued angst of his student, Carlos. Laughing at Carlos’ dedication to his misery, Don Juan says, “You indulge like a son-of-a-bitch!” Discovering and shedding indulgences is a many layered exploration. Shedding indulgences, like cutting junk food from your diet, comes when you recognize that you choose what you consume, not the other way around. You choose what you think, you choose your meditations, not the other way around.

Meditation10.17 copy

Meditation, 48 x 48in, mixed media

I am relearning this lesson. Lately, in the studio, I find I am meditating on my personal hall of monsters and past injustices. I’ve been taken aback at my dedication to replaying these tales of woe and unfairness.  And then I hear Roger’s voice in my head saying, “What kind of a sissy word is ‘fair!'” And I laugh. Laughter is great for rededicating the thought-train. Laughter loops me back to another favorite Don Juan-ism: “The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same.”

 

LAYERED MEDITATION reminder/merchandise

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layered meditation & meditation ©️ 2018, 2012 david robinson & kerri sherwood

DR Thursday

cropped II earth interrupted with frame metal square WALL ART jpeg copy 3There is a lesson for me in this week’s morsel. It is a lesson I’ve learned over and over again. It is a basic, a fundamental and perhaps that is why I am once again revisiting this lesson: Focus (perception) is like a narrow flashlight in the night. Where you point it will determine what you see. And, most important, you choose where you point it. And, even more important, what you see is narrow, what you don’t see is vast.

Kerri chose this morsel. I marvel at what she sees and what she chooses for our melange and how it blows back and impacts what I see. This morsel, she calls it, “held in process,’ is a snippet of a painting-in-process. At Skip’s prompting a few years ago I started taking process shots and nowadays Kerri regularly dashes into the studio to make sure I’m taking my shots (“What do you have for me?” she asks, striding down the stairs). I delight in this particular morsel because, when seen in the greater context of the finished piece, it captures perfectly the lesson. It is like a popcorn trail of perception, an exercise in focus-choosing. Enjoy this morsel from the melange.  Follow the trail to the final piece. Have fun shining your light on the morsel, Held in Process and on Earth Interrupted II.

 

real1

the beginning layer, the under painting.

real2

the second layer

pix#1   pix#2

#3

this one

next layers – my favorite: paper sack!

#4

EarthInterrupted2 copy

the finished painting: Earth Interrupted II, mixed media 48×34.5 in

 

HELD IN PROCESS merchandise

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II earth interrupted FRAMED ART PRINT copy

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okay, so, kerri designs ALL of our products. Cool iphone cases…

II earth interrupted RECT PILLOW copy

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read Kerri’s thoughts on Held In Process

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held in process/earth interrupted II ©️ 2018 david robinson, kerri sherwood

DR Thursday

a slice of heaven for your DR Thursday melange

a slice of heaven FRAMED PRINT copy

This weeks morsel: A Slice Of Heaven

Hans the realtor led me through the house, through small narrow channels that cut a path through the collected debris. Years of old newspapers were bundled and stacked high. In one room, thousands of text books were piled to the ceiling. “You will have to use your imagination to see the space,” Hans said. Windows closed, curtained against the light, I had a hard time breathing as we squeezed our way through the makeshift passageways.

Finally, emerging from the suffocating rooms, we stood on the front lawn. I gasped, “How can anyone live like that?”  Hans the realtor, unruffled by our stroll through the hoarder’s house, said, “Everyone has their heaven. This is what their heaven looks like.”

It was a lesson in suspending judgment. Hans the realtor had seen many houses and had glimpses into many lives. Each unique. Some recognizable. Some not. He knew that all we ever get is a glimpse into the world of another person, the smallest keyhole view into their life, and an even smaller peak into their heaven. And, a peak is never the whole picture.

they draw sunsets copy 2

A Slice Of Heaven comes from this original painting titled, They Draw Sunsets In The Sand, 35.5 x 47.5 IN

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A SLICE OF HEAVEN merchandise [gift cards, wall art, apparel, and more…]

a slice of heaven FRAMED PRINT copy

This weeks morsel: A Slice Of Heaven

a slice of heaven cards copy

gift cards

a slice of heaven BLUE copy

a “just words” framed wall art

a slice of heaven METAL TRAVEL MUG copy   a slice of heaven SQUARE PILLOW copy

 

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a slice of heaven/they draw sunsets in the sand ©️ 2018, 2017 david robinson & kerri sherwood

DR Thursday

thoughts from the melange to give lift to your thursday

THISquarterearth interrupted I sharpened copy

this is a morsel of the painting Earth Interrupted I. Kerri calls this morsel Quarter Earth

I’d completely forgotten about this painting. It is so utterly different from everything else I’ve ever done that after I painted it I rolled it and never showed it. In truth, it was an experiment, something I didn’t at all take seriously. At the time, I was discontent with my paintings. I was bored and uninspired. I’ve worked long enough to recognize that my discontent signals an empty tank, a need to rejuvenate. Rest and refill the creative tank.

Earlier in my artistic life, these periods of emptiness caused me to panic. What if that’s it? What if I’ve lost my muse? What if my creative well is permanently run dry?  In my panic I’d try and force things to happen, which you can imagine, served only to magnify my empty-discontents. There’s nothing like a good panic, a deep investment in creative-lack-theory, to generate a serious case of artist block. It took me a while to learn that I run in cycles, just like the seasons, that my creative spring ebbs and flows. Blocks are not necessary.

Now, when I hit one of ‘winter’ phases, in addition to taking it easy, I’ve learned the best thing to do is play. Experiment. Loosen the grip, spin the dials, re-open the eyes. Leave the studio and pretend I’m Andy Goldsworthy, stack rocks, arrange leaves, take walks and photograph random textures. Make snowmen. Scribble with crayons.

The morsel for today’s melange is an ancient map of my long-ago play. Paper sacks and paint and palette knife scribbles. I usually throw these things away or paint over them. But, this painting, so utterly different, created so many years ago, must have whispered, “Wait. Just put me aside and wait. I have something for a future you.” I’m so glad I listened. At this very moment, drying in the studio, is Earth Interrupted II. Earth Interrupted III is on the easel and already Earth Interrupted IV is calling me.

earthInterruptedI copy

Earth Interrupted I, mixed media 48″x 53″

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QUARTER EARTH MERCHANDISE

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earth interrupted I & quarter earth ©️ 2012, 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood