It began with an impulse, once my only driving force, emotion. Now of course I’ve managed some level of control, forms of expression that convey the burden of bottled things. This impulse has become my solution, has led to an understanding of self, a confirmation of being.
Conflict, a reoccurring theme in my life and my work,
The being; capable of bearing the weight of a complete expression. The individual is a symphony; a compilation of instruments flowing together, being led in one direction or the other. So often we are seen in one light, from one vantage point.
“MOTION ON E”. Acrylic on canvas 16X20
Images that must be viewed from multiple angles, can not fully be seen from one point of view. Deformities become clear.
Rarely does the physical environment reflect the power and density of the moment.
Rarely do our minds project the true physical world onto our perceived mental scape.
Each canvas is an indication of History, of experiences had, decisions made, A record keeper.
Each of us have our own stories, not always visible to those we encounter, these stories have left an impression on us. A lasting mark. They shape the person we are, to become.
In this way the canvas becomes an extension of my own emotional space. Sometimes life offends, and so I strike my surfaces with the passion it requires. Sometimes I come into my space intending to destroy, often requiring it.
This is an exercise in acceptance. What can and can not be altered after time has had its way. WE can choose and try to erase some things, pretend as though they never happened, or except that choices do have influence over everything that comes next.
Diversity requires an observer, to view from different perspectives, to develop a well rounded understanding of the subject its level of importance. I take no concern for the absolutely real, the unblemished, the obviously intentional. No, instead catch the eye on the missing things, the mistakes proudly displayed,
A reflection on choices, the perpetual motion of life, the decisions that cut the very deepest. These experiences lead to an incontrollable urge to scratch at the surface of what was, only to be reminded, the desire to return is ever unrequited.
How does one respond to things they can not change?
Ive been practicing the joy of moving forward, I chose to experience the repercussions of my recklessness. The high probability of mistakes, the gravity of changing coarse, these things I’ve come to accept. And yet my living does not always reflect the knowledge I gain here