Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
I wanted to check out the galleries to see what was being sold in the area. You would not believe the schlock that's being passed off as art. Between the "modern" art, the Picasso rip-offs, and the landscapes with uninspiring use of color and no sense of light, it's hard to understand why this stuff sells for thousands of dollars. I actually looked at a seascape and wondered what you would say about it. After pondering it for a few minutes, I came to the conclusion you would think it was no better than a paint-by-numbers picture. Then I overheard that the artist's family comes from money and paid for their son to go to school in Paris. I nearly shrieked "what a waste!"
(I'll take the blessed artist part but I am not so sure about the outstanding human bit)
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
as a kid in the middle of nowhere in Texas we had a park called dinosaur park...Here is a photo I found online. I went here many times as a child, there are real dinosaur footprints in the park. They are like the memories mashed into the soft earth of my child-brain.
Their faces closed tight,
An angular mass of new yorkers
Pacing in rhythm,
Race the oncoming night,
They chase through the streets of manhattan.
Pause at a light,
Then flow through the streets of the city.
They seem oblivious
To a soft spring rain,
Like an english rain
So light, yet endless
From a leaden sky.
The buildings are lost in the limitless rise.
My feet catch the pulse and the purposeful stride.
I feel the sense of possibilities,
I feel the wrench of hard realities.
The focus is sharp in the city.
On lifes ancient tales,
Steeped in the history of london.
Mist in the streets of westminster.
Wistful and weathered,
The pride still prevails,
Alive in the streets of the city.
Are they oblivious
To this quality?
Of light unique to
Every citys streets.
Pavements may teem with intense energy,
But the city is calm in this violent sea.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Some people are born with an innate sense of adventure. A sense that they are supposed to "go out" into the world and do things. A sense that the town you grew up in just aint big enough and to inter your psychic bones there for the rest of your days would be a tragedy "par excellent. It is fine to re-visit for the holidays but then your skin gets itchy and its time to ramble on . I've always felt this way. I need adventure, if not external, then internal. I need to feel alive because (unlike marriages) it seems to me you only get one go around in this world. I was always comfortable falling on my face as long as I was on the edge of something I didn't understand. I look in the faces of those I have known and I see the trap they have so carefully built for themselves, full of strange and unconscious levers and mechanisms. I am not knocking the safe and secure and suburban life nor am I looking down on another people, one mans trap is another man's paradise. ( I suppose) But I meet some of the people I grew up with and they lived "by the book" and did all the "right things" and yet I get a sense of a slow and ticking malaise, a sense of a hero's death and dragons of un-slain. I am sure there are fingers pointed in my direction at mutterings of "unstable" and wild and the like but we each live according to our own nervous systems. we are hard-wired by our super-ego's, a script handed to us by parental and often unknown forces. My nature is one that prefers life, not sipped but swallowed whole and gulped. Fear is a great shepherd and outside the corral of consensus there is a life that is vast and vibrant and exciting. I dont like boredom. Boredom is a sign of lack of interior recources. "Some are born to rule the world and live their fantasies, most of us just dream anbout the things we'd like to be...." I would rather sleep soundly in a cheap self-made bed than live a lie and swallow medication to help me slumber through the ticking of self laid traps of a bed that is ready made--and besides, there may be a dragon "under there."
In pain and desperation,
Her aching limbs and downcast face
Aglow with perspiration
Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire,
With just the briefest pause ---
The flooding through her memory,
The echoes of old applause.
She limps across the floor
And closes her bedroom door...
The writer stares with glassy eyes ---
Defies the empty page
His beard is white, his face is lined
And streaked with tears of rage.
Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
With passion and precision,
But now his mind is dark and dulled
By sickness and indecision.
And he stares out the kitchen door
Where the sun will rise no more...
Some are born to move the world ---
To live their fantasies
But most of us just dream about
The things we'd like to be
Sadder still to watch it die
Than never to have known it
For you -- the blind who once could see ---
The bell tolls for thee...
Michelangelo Buonarroti (Italian, Caprese 1475 - 1564 Rome)
Red chalk, with small accents of white chalk on the left shoulder of the figure in the main study (recto); soft black chalk, or less probably charcoal (verso); sheet: 11 3/8 x 8 7/16 in. (28.9 x 21.4 cm)
Purchase, Joseph Pulitzer Bequest, 1924 (24.197.2)
This is one of my favorite skecthes of all time. It is a study by Michelangelo of the Libyan Sibyl for his Sistine chapel. This is the definition of "line quality..."
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
My sister is a great ballerina, she gave me a bunch of toe shoes so I could paint a still life. I decided to draw a design on one of the shoes...driven to distraction. There is no surface that my brain doesnt want to scribble and draw on. I think I have a compulsion, a fear of empty spaces so I have to fill every space I can with art. Some people make art because they want to, I make art because I have to.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I have come around to liking this artist he has a certain "something" I believe he taught picasso for a while..there aren't many symbolists I dont like...
I took this snapshot off some random trail in Central Park. This snapshot really reminds me of a sargent watercolor. I hate Sargent's buttery oils of rich people and dogs, they are like chewing on butter sticks. but his watercolors have life! LIFE is the elusive fourth dimension of art. You can have technique, you can have concept--- but LIFE is the heartbeat of the work.! I know techie artists who have all the skills locked down tight and they have as much life as a toad on a texas highway. I know other artists who have only concepts and no technique. There is somewhere a happy sun-dappled meadow of middleness where I try to put up my camp.
I may visit the suburbs for inspiration..
eat more pound cake.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
This is really named after my last name..I lived there until 11. It was not named Gardega rd. while we lived there..
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Another bar shot of Chipmunk. I used black and white as an homage to Rod Serling, one of my favorite people. His writing often covered such concepts as the one elaborated below.
In my neighborhood there is a wonderful neighborhood bar restaurant called the Wicked Wolf. It is the last of the Mohicans--- of real neighborhood "joints." Over the last year I really got to know the place and its patrons, everyone knows everyone, it almost like family. Being a lone wolf myself I took a shine to the place and used to go there and draw and listen to a million stories. I was one of the youngest regulars in the place. I don't do prefab yuppie bars where khakied upper east- siders drink beer from golds fish bowls so my choices were/ are limited. Sadly, "The Wolf" is now closing--bought out by 2nd avenue deli. Progress. I went to the party for regulars there last night. I wonder where "the family" will now go? People get to know each other after 20 years of frequenting the same place. Like suburban marriages-- all good things come to an end. I promised myself I wont support the deli but rather my local Arab owned deli where they are happy let me pay for my redbull tomorrow if I am running in sweats without my wallet. The world spins a course to complete homogenization and even people have been brainwashed into a conformist dough that has no flavor or spice. I believe in the individual at all costs and in individual thought above all. The future will one day be a walmart-ian utopia where overweight Americans shop for American idol CD's and gallon jugs of mouthwash. Do not go lightly into the dark fluorescent light of sameness and sou less reality. Here are some pics of a place I came to know so well.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Aspen Social Club New York, Venue Description
Despite its proximity to Times Square, Aspen Social Club is a welcoming relief. Designed by Steve Lewis and Mark Dizon, we might as well call it the faux-Aspen winter equivalent to The Brier Group's faux-Miami summertime hotspot, Highbar. The décor of the eatery cum lounge cum nightspot is spot-on. Designed by nightlife guru turned interior designer Steve Lewis it boasts a gorgeous $100,000 ceramic antler chandelier, a fireplace (ok so it's fake, but it works in setting a cozy mood), and a glass wall etched with tree trunks (surprisingly not tacky). Best of all there's no wall separating Aspen Social Club from the Stay Hotel next-door, so not only is there a nice balance of light and dark, there's two equally well designed spaces (the hotel lobby is full of comfy white leather chairs and lounge tables, a mirrored wall, and animal-inspired artwork), for patrons to spill-over to when they're in need of some light and quieter conversation.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
I went to the met yesterday to take a look at Michelangelo's first painting. It is based off the etching by schongauer (above) I am not sure if it is a real Michelangelo but the painting is well done and the etching is a fav. of mine since I was a child. The landscape in the painting is not top notch but the creatures are. Some people go to church--I go to The Met. I then wen to the Francis Bacon show which didnt really move me, I prefer the bacon that goes with my eggs.
I will watercolor this--- my second "kitchen" watercolor.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
12 x 16 inches on arches paper to purchase https://tendollarart.com/products/alice-in-winter-watercolor
Here is a rough sketch layout for a new Palm Beach mural. I always keep my initial sketches rough as you never know where a client's...
Tangled Up In Blue (purple) Early one mornin' the sun was shinin', I was layin' in bed Wond'rin'...
30,000 years ago a caveman blew paint over his hand on a cave wall. It still exists to this day... Think of that. A thing of beauty is a joy...