Coronado, San Diego
Coronado, San Diego
Knew there was something bubbling up from within,
so I got out my art supplies, did a quick setup.
Did a few quick sketches of a woman’s face.
I liked the sketches, but they weren’t ready
at that time
to turn into a painting.
So, I reached for yellow, did a little mixing, and began the sky.
Added some blood red to create the water.
Lastly added some blue to the upper sky…
and an accident happened.
While reaching for paint, I knocked over my painting,
and it sent the blue paint skidding across the page.
I looked at it and thought — rain!!!
The ceiling fan in my apartment was blowing, and I was also listening to music. Only in between songs did I realize, thanks to open windows, that it had begun to rain outside, as well.
A heavy, evening rain. One of the first real rains of spring.
SYNCHRONICITY AT IT’S FINEST
GETTIN’ IN THE FLOW’LL DO IT
Oh! The lipstick came as a random idea at the very end.
Just smudged a little near the center, against the red water.
A blizzard came to Minnesota in mid April, 2018.
It was a Saturday.
I was cozily holed up in my studio apartment.
Snow fell steadily, peacefully, collecting on the windowsill.
I stood by the window and painted a cardinal
(inspired by a photo found online).
The cardinal, sitting on a snowy branch, pointed
with its confident beak
A flower of some sort, opening under the endlessly moody Dutch skies.
Erik’s dad found this one beautiful.
I don’t consider it beautiful, but I consider it real and honest,
and sad in the right way.
Still one of my favorite pieces I’ve done. As I painted it that summer in Amsterdam, I was feverish and warm as the woman appears here, but I felt hemmed in by a cold and indifferent universe.
It was a pretty tortured time of my life, decompressing mentally after my university days, living in a foreign country for uncertain reasons, wanting badly to be an artist.
When I moved out of Erik’s place the following winter, he placed this painting on the curb for the trash (cold move, but alas, we were breaking up). I couldn’t take it with me, had to travel light. He also put out some books and DVDs, other junk from the apartment.
I found out from him later that the painting was picked up by someone within minutes, the rest of the trash left behind until waste management collected it.
I never signed the painting, but I hope it found a funky home in Amsterdam.