It’s been over a month since I stood before two paintings that were hung on the same wall at Acquavella Gallery in Upper Manhattan.  The two works that captivated my attention for more than an hour were part of a retrospective of the Scull Collection.  The exhibition included important works by Willem de Kooning, Jasper Johns, James Rosenquist, Andy Warhol, Claes Oldenburg and a host of others.  However, the pieces that spoke to me weren’t the iconic, grandiose pieces as I had anticipated.  While the Rosenquists and Warhols offered one-two punches that were truly amazing, and the Johns, Oldenburgs, and Wesselman were undoubtedly impressive, it was the Clyfford Still and Philip Guston combination that captured both my imagination and my heart that day.

The personal and deliberate nature of the painterly brushwork and heavy knifing, the juxtaposition of large scale and small scale, bold black with lightning strikes of color and the opposing muddy earth tones stopped me in my tracks.  The paintings quietly pulsed with life.  Not bursting forth with energy.  Not exuding any particular “wow-factor.”  Rather, they felt as though they were breathing with a measured deliberateness.  They were the guests who sat quietly (mysteriously) as the others boldly pontificated an endless droning of “look at me.”

Don’t misunderstand me, the other works in the show by Warhol, Rosenquist, Johns, DeKooning, etc. are very strong (obviously that’s a given).  They were bold, robust and outgoing.  They demanded attention, but because of that they simply felt less personal to me, while the two paintings that captured my imagination felt as though they intentionally wanted to engage me in a quiet conversation.

The Guston and the Still stood quietly as I took them in, following the sometimes subtle and sometimes energetic movements made by the hands of their individual creators.  They remained un-phased, but not disinterested, as I carefully explored their subtle shifts in color and texture that adorned their fragile surfaces.  As the time passed, I felt a true connection with these paintings, and knew that their demure nature was simply a façade.  They held deep mysteries, and rich stories, which I could only briefly explore during that short viewing.  Simply standing before them was a celebration, and collectively we quietly acknowledged the unknowable mysteries of life and death.

Now, weeks later they are still scratching at my skin and turning my thoughts, which leads me to believe that they are more powerful than I first imagined.  I’m thankful that I encountered those works of art that day, and am indebted to the creative visionaries who diligently pursued their passions that my life could be forever enriched by them.

I’ve been considering these thoughts for quite a while now, and am somewhat ready to share them with you. It’s my hope that you’ll read through this and add your thoughts to the mix too.

Throughout the years, I have noticed that here in the United States (though certainly not unique to this country) there is a tacit desire to be recognized first and foremost as an individual. We work hard to project that we are a society of hearty, self-made, solitary characters. Certainly we are a robust and confident people, and our collective hard work and unique vision for independence has helped shape our nation, but individualism isn’t the complete expression of who we are.

We revere and reward bold individualism as the ultimate expression of one’s value and relevance to our culture. Yet interestingly enough, once recognized and singled out, those individuals who exhibit the greatest eccentricity are often quickly co-opted by the marketplace and are then lifted up as ones to emulate (oddly stifling further explorations of individualism). In order to maintain relevance in this paradigm one must continually and at all costs be on the leading edge, pushing boundaries, making and remaking unique personal statements. New is everything! This type of relevance is simply a thin veneer, which is celebrated primarily for its novelty and the ever elusive “wow factor.”

Relevance, when judged solely by its commercial value is the antithesis of a broad and lasting relevance, which often takes the shape of somewhat odd or unpopular, obscure visions that are cultivated deeply, over time and in the shadows of the mainstream. True relevance enhances community. Commercial relevance is driven by the singular desire to capitalize on the financial aspect of individualism. There appears to be a cultural blindness to the fact that as we commodify everything, our understanding of holistic value is skewed. The implementation of measured and calculated marketing, places a sustained emphasis on newness, which ensures a continued desire for more by creating fears of being left behind, deemed irrelevant or out of date. This fact encourages a steady flow of commerce but it doesn’t ensure deep exploration of peripheral ideas simply because they lack the glamor of marketability.

History shows, that as individuals we are absolutely capable of developing rich ideas and fantastic creations that have the potential for a far-reaching, lasting impact. Today it is quite often believed that individuals and their ideas develop on their own, and marketplace pressures have trained us to be to slow to admit that many of our own ideas and creations have encouraged through external influences. An admission that we are inspired to those around us and beholden to those who have gone before us is often thought of as a confession that we lack original thought. Yet, it is vital to acknowledge that our individualism is truly a byproduct of our community – specifically our relationships and experiences.

Our best chances to become fully relevant and influential to our community comes as we view our own individuality in light of the communal collectivism that has informed and influenced our capacity for uniqueness. Our individualism is undoubtedly intertwined with the individualism of each of those we interact with, and to believe that we act alone will ultimately limit our impact. We will benefit, and the greater community will benefit from the realization that we are only fully capable of being relevant individuals once we embrace our own connectivity to community.

All right, here’s the thing: I’ve been told that my blog is absolutely lame. Actually…I was told it was even worse than that. It’s not been updated since 2007. O.K. I admit it…I’m not a blogger. Maybe I have blogging anxiety. Frankly, I’m not even sure that I like the idea of blogging because it seems to take me a tremendously long time to prepare, write, edit and post my thoughts online. I don’t know why – but it may have to do with my perfectionist tendencies.

However, the outside pressure is greater than the inside pressure, so I’ve decided to make another go at it. To paraphrase Ben Folds…”you’ve got to give the people what they want…” I don’t really believe that. Well, maybe a little bit. No. Maybe. Who cares? I do. No I don’t. Maybe I do. Ahhhh.

Don’t check it out everyday – keep your expectations low. Maybe I’ll post something once every few weeks. Don’t always expect it to be the written word – could be a picture, might even be a blank entry. (I think that technically speaking I’ve “blogged” even if I post “nothing”). I may need an outside ruling on that…

My inconsistency will definitely be more consistent from now on. I’ll do better than a once every two-year update. I promise.

I’m opening a new exhibition on the 22nd of June at the Pendleton Center for the Arts. This show will showcase works in a variety of mediums including fabric, glass and bronze.

The overarching themes that thread the work together are “rootedness” and “blooming”. I am continually processing through thoughts that deal with my place in relation to my ancestry, my current place of living, my obligation to community and the purpose of my working. As I continue to deal with these ideas (and many more) I am intentionally trying to put down “roots” so my life and work can have the essential structure needed to experience a rich period of blooming.

I hope you have the opportunity to experience the exhibition. However, if you are unable to see the work in person and would like to see additional images, please visit the Pendleton Center for the Arts web site. If you have additional questions about the works in the show or would like to comment on my rambling thoughts, please feel free to get in touch with me.

I’m minding my own business, doing my thing and…Wham! A couple of friends put it out there. I hate it when people lay down a dare. The terms: “put a piece on eBay and start the bidding at $.99.” Someone is going to get a screaming deal.

This past week while in Austria I heard a thought-filled lecture on the subject of beauty. I have been interested in this subject for quite some time and was pleased with the opportunity to expand my thinking on the subject. The presenter, Jim Parker from Southern Seminary University aimed to show that beauty is in fact not a relativist concept, but rather an objective, universal property. He put forth the argument that beauty, like goodness and morality is an objective truth that is inseparable from the God of all creation. The consistent pursuit of that which is beautiful is an indication that humanity has an unquenchable desire to know and behold beauty. If we think of beauty as being a dynamic of God then Sartre’s notion of having “a God-sized hole in my heart” makes sense of our “beauty seeking” as part of a larger spiritual search.

Parker went on to make the statement that “beauty” as the old adage goes is not simply skin deep, but rather “’pretty’ is skin deep and beauty goes through to the soul.” He continued on by saying that everyone longs to behold and encounter beauty, but we are never satisfied because the beauty, which is created by man, is never ultimately complete.

He went on to say that our creations are like the aroma that alerts us of the impending richness of a delicious meal. Our creations (aroma) are not the thing that brings full satisfaction, but it is the meal (our relation to God) that satisfies us completely.

During a discussion following the lecture, Joe Kickasola, associate professor at Baylor University, offered a position that seemed to me to be the middle road between universalism (absolute) and relativism (non-absolute). He talked of beauty as a dynamic not a property of a thing. In this way, beauty is not necessarily easily definable, or universal but it is a dynamic that points us to something greater than ourselves. Beauty seems to be generated from the truthfulness of a thing – the transparency.

The sky is beautiful because it is the sky – it is not trying to appear that it is something it is not. Thinking of beauty in this way makes me wonder if it is possible for artists to create beauty if it is not born from the truth that resides in them?

I was honored to have an opening reception in Austria for the installation of my newest work. With the help of a couple other artists/conference members I was able to create a couple of site-specific pieces that enlivened the historic space and complemented the paintings I had brought from my studio in Walla Walla.

Tom from the Netherlands and Daniel from Austria assisted me in the formation of an installation created from earth and stone which figured prominently in the exhibition. We moved wheelbarrows full of soil and rocks from a nearby meadow and arranged it into a large semi-flat circle on the old wooden floor of the exhibition space in the Schloss Mittersill castle. The piece was lit with a strong spotlight from above. It extended the forms that I have been working with in paintings and glass installations. It also inspired me to continue my thoughts of mortality and my deeper spiritual search.

When the exhibition opened and people filed into the room they were quite unsure how to interact in the space with the large earthen form that impeded the route of normal foot traffic. After a brief time of uneasiness over the unexpected installation the conversations and champagne began to flow which turned the evening into a truly memorable and festive event.

After a long journey from Seattle to Munich I finally arrived at Schloss Mittersill in Austria for their summer arts conference. For the next week I will mount an exhibition of new work and conduct a seminar on painting. I’ll be posting new images and written entries throughout the entire conference, so check in from time to time to see and hear about what’s going on over here.

The focus of my seminar is translating external seeing to internal artistic vision. The aim of the seminar is to help others experience new ways of liberating their internal notions into a competent, visual format. We’ll look specifically at formal devices used in painting (color, line, form and design) and will try to develop new ways of using them to infuse a greater personal energy and narrative into the work. My hope is that the participants will feel the freedom and confidence necessary to move beyond the simple “recording” of what they see to the expression of what they feel in the context of what they are see.

Artists (visual artists, musicians, illustrators, writers, etc) from around the world have traveled to this place to find support and encouragement from like-minded souls. The community here is so energetic and welcoming – the atmosphere is quite electric. There is an obvious hunger in all of the attendees to express themselves freely in a safe and accepting community. Schloss Mittersill is that community.

I’ve been thinking about our fast-paced, contemporary lives and am wondering if anyone has the time to enjoy the richness that simple pleasures can bring. My schedule has me traveling quite a bit lately, so I’ve had “forced” thinking time while I soar through the air in a tin tube with wings.

Sitting like a sardine on a plane, tens of thousands of feet above the earth can really give you an opportunity to pause and reflect. Looking out the window at the white wisps and patterned landscape I really had the sense that my life had become overly complicated -much because of my own doing. I’m sure if you are like me, you’ll fill up your day, week or year doing good things, fun things, and exciting things. My problem is that I’m involved doing so many things that I forget to remember what I’ve already done or I forget what really brings my joy. For me, it takes a spirited effort to focus on slowing down to enjoy what I’m doing and what I’ve already done. There should be no real need to speed off onto the next thing without fully comprehending what has just been finished.

My daughter taught me this point so well the other day through a drawing that she made for me. It was very similar to a drawing she had made for me the week before, and that drawing was nearly the same as ones she had previously made for me. I asked her to tell me why she enjoyed making those specific pictures and she told me that she “liked the trees and the clouds and the grass.” They were her “favorite things.” Her words have stuck with me. Not because they were revolutionary, but because they were simple. Her honesty shed light on the importance of being present and enjoying the things that you’ve experienced. It also showed me that reminding yourself about those things is very important.

As an artist I think it is crucial that I continually reflect on my experiences. I want to focus on having those memorable moments burned into the core of my being, so that when I recall them visually I can re-experience them emotionally as well. I think that’s a great place to create from and good place live each day. Carve out some thinking time to regain perspective on the places you’ve been, the experiences you’ve had and the things you’ve accomplished. Slow down a bit and reflect on everything that has formed you to this point in your life.