art therapy

‘art’ is what an artist makes when he makes art. but, making art is about transcending your own mediocrity. when an artist develops and understands her tools and technique and watches where they lead her, she realizes that art is the means to understand herself and become free — to move outside her own narrow space and understanding.

the artist moves outside his genre to invent his art. he invents a world for himself. i’m sort of there, but i’m still looking over my shoulder to see what the watchers are seeing. the liberating thing this last year is to realize the art lovers were actually just looking to see if i was appreciating their condescension in looking at my stuff at all. it’s easier to work now that i’m turning my back on them… no more distractions from helping the needy narcissists. this, of course, is just protective reaction. but, after, what, seven years of not even getting a comment or a share from such good friends, i think maybe i have to realize what ‘friend’ actually means.rudeboy 2 sm

bauhaus student work, 1926

my new painting sometimes just looks to me like old bauhaus done by one of the kids who didn’t quite get the concept. though, my old stuff looks most of the time to me like someone who just wanted to be a painter. i brain-drain and agonize and have great moments of static high when i work on my painting. but, if i have to ask who i’m painting my stuff for, i have to admit it’s for art museums rather than to change the way the world sees or thinks or laughs. granted, ‘art museum’ means the situation where people who really do know how to see a painting will see my work. in fact, they’re the only people i want to see my painting. circular loop, and sometimes my work looks really like a painting.

new style

these are all in my old style, and because i’ve just jumped out of their orbit i can see them and i kind of like them. they’re fun and strange, and sometimes kind of deep, for non-figurative painting — quasi non figurative. my new style is lighter anyway. i was going to have a show in NYC next year, but i’ve postponed or simply decided not to do it, since i’ve really only got three new pieces and two transitionals. you’d think it would be a big deal to have your first painting show in NYC, but i am my paintings and i don’t look like i did when J. showed the museum my portfolio. J’s kind of angry at me, but i’ve lived long enough to see what old work looks like from a distance. you can’t edit or redo it, and there’d be a catalog. some future time, when all my work will stop and everything still standing will be ‘retrospective’ and ‘life’s work’ and that’s it. though, i have to say, and what made me cancel, is seeing mark rothko’s work in retrospect. he was mostly really a crappy clone painter until the little scandinavian fuzzy rugs. pretty embarrassing to see him cloning a new painter style every single decade. can’t help but feel that’s where i’m at too — or, at least, if not cloning, inventing modern art through the years by just trying to figure out what painting is. the cool thing is i get to work into the same space as some painters i really like — find myself working out a problem in the same mind-set. i’ve gotten to see an evolution in style over the last 15 years which is kind of like the real-world evolution in painters and painting. but, i know this only because i saw their works and saw what they did with their talent. the fact that anyone even likes my work enough at all is kind of amazing. i mean, i like it, but i can see it as i intended it. most people seem to just see it on their i-phone screen — small and not very interesting images with no sex and mostly seen by tweety-pies who don’t care enough to try to see them on a big monitor. i hear i-phones give you brain cancer. so sad. that’s probably why they can never make a comment on my work.

i’ll put up fotos of my new stuff when i get into photographing again.