Post Pandemic Reflection and Change

Like many of you, I spent a great deal of time during the pandemic years, reaching out to others and working on building and maintaining connection in a time that threatened to unravel the already frayed fibers of our connectedness. That forged and reinforced pandemic connectedness was also balanced by solitude and natural world experiences, an exercise regime that we had not been making time for previously and a lot of cooking. 

News and social media sources were rife with stories of isolation and sadness, anxiety and uncertainly. But what I found was that in the face of threat of isolation my wife and I became more connected to one another during that time, more present with people in our lives and more focused on those with whom we were engaging than we had ever been. I was no longer over-booking myself with every event, that kept me watching my phone and the time and distracted me from the joy of a deeper, more meaningful experience. I was not distractedly conversing in loud and crowded rooms or events. Kim and I were home more and enjoying the JOMO (joy of missing out).

We were connecting with friends, family and neighbors on long walks in the woods, bundled up for Wisconsin winters, sitting around a bonfire in the backyard and connecting through written letters and smaller Zoom dinner parties with friends near and far.

 We connected with strangers through volunteering to deliver food and other necessities for a mutual aid food pantry created in response to the pandemic by a incredible collective of local social justice-oriented artists, serving those most impacted by sudden loss of income on Milwaukee’s south side. We delivered food that we had made to people in our own neighborhood too. We broke out of our normal routines. We were present and open in conversation about the difficulty of the time and our fears for those around us, their health and well-being. But we were also looking for what would inspire hope and resilience in our own lives and sharing that with others.

As someone who was in charge of the college freshmen art majors at my university, I devised new ways to invite students to leave their dorms and explore their community in COVID safe ways. “Friday Hikes with Joey” started in response to learning that some students had not left their dorm building in over a month. Students new to Milwaukee were afraid to leave their dorm, afraid they may get lost. Our dog Joey started coming to school with me on Fridays, where we met students who hungry for exercise, fresh air, social opportunity and some good dog therapy. From campus we explored surrounding areas of beauty, within an easy walk from campus. We hiked the ravine trails at Lake Park, and students learned about famous park designer Frederick Olmstead (designer of our park, Central Park and Prospect Parks in NYC). Students took turns walking Joey, marveled at the wildlife along the Milwaukee River Trails and talked enthusiastically with one another and with me. It was good for all of us, as teaching online, in its infancy, was certainly less satisfying for students and instructors alike.

I didn’t write blog entries during this time because I was writing letters and post cards to friends who were more isolated than I was, for whom a tactile note, a gift of food delivered to the doorstep, might inspire hope and help them to feel connected. It also made me feel connected to do the writing. As Georgia O’Keefe signed her letters “From the Faraway Nearby”, I found that I felt close to those to whom I wrote real letters. Like many we tried our hand at sour dough, started making Kombucha and Kefir. We were rich in probiotics. We practiced gratitude, feeling it, expressing it, acknowledging all that we had, as well sharing our bounty with others.

We read the news and watched, from what felt like an fairly priviledged and safe bubble, as the world succumbed to a terrible virus, as those who could, came up with new ways to live in order to survive. We watched as essential workers risked their lives daily to try to keep the world fed and cared for. Thanks to social media and creative neighbors, we watched as artists shared their music, their poetry, their ideas with strangers, with humanity, sparking connection, joy and hope internationally. Suddenly the world seemed much smaller, more united in a struggle. There were fewer strangers and lots of inspiration.

We also watched as some people, in open defiance of what was proven to be scientifically true, resisted taking precautionary measures and were fed, and themselves spread, lies about vaccine safety, masking and social distancing effectiveness, leading to the illness and death of some of their own loved ones. We watched as people who we thought knew better behaved in unimaginable ways, embracing conspiracies and endangering themselves and others as they defied science and all reason for the sake of what they claimed was freedom from mask wearing, freedom from vaccination (but not freedom from ignorance, selfishness or tragic loss). It was so strange and terrifying…that people would not consider that their freedom to go mask free or vaccine free was in fact helping the virus to develop vaccine resistant strains and spreading their potential infection farther and wider.

In the midst of this pandemic, creative projects buoyed our spirits. We bought a used cargo van and set about to convert it into a camper. This project, that had originally been something that we had planned to do when we retired, was moved to the front burner as a happy project that started in August of 2020 and while it took us nearly two years to get complete, we used it in various stages of completion for more local camping trips, beta testing and tweaking our design. We used it  to visit Kim’s Michigan-based parents in a Covid safe way. We then got it completed enough to drive it to Alaska for a two-month road trip that included my family reunion in Fairbanks and lots of exploring in Southeastern Alaska. That camper opened doors to more adventures and more connectedness. It has brought us joy and has us planning more trips for the future.

When the Black Lives Matter protests started in response to George Floyd’s murder in the Summer of 2020 we opened our garage and set up banner painting stations to help the cause. With fans and open air, we could gather in small groups to paint outside. Our Art Build activities also continued smaller scale, creating free standing picketer cutouts with signs that we installed in front of the McDonald’s headquarters in Chicago for their annual shareholder meeting (working with SEIU), demanding an increase in minimum wage/salaries for their employees and safer work conditions. These actions, working together to help others, gave us hope, brought us together safely to have fun. We didn’t feel helpless. We were doing something in community with others to address at least some of the problems facing humanity.

We have a dear friend in his late 80’s whose wife died shortly after the two of them had moved into assisted living, far from the community where they had lived for 50 years. His wife’s funeral was the last event that we attended before the pandemic shut everything down. Realizing that, as a very social and creative person who was suddenly alone and grief stricken, he would need love and support, we started having video calls with him almost every evening at 7:30pm. We called it “the Allen Hour”. It lifted his spirits and ours. Those calls with him now happen once or twice a week. He has become family to us.

We were very fortunate to emerge from that time without significant loss of friends and family. We maintained our health and, actually, became healthier due to the sudden focus on doing less of the frivolous stuff and more of the meaningful, while also being more physically active. Never have we been so hydrated, limber, strong and mindful about connection.

Have we maintained those benefits and lessons learned? To a degree, yes. But once things opened up again, we were back to doing quite a bit. We are more aware of what we choose to do and how much and are able to moderate when our calendar fills and we start to put important self-care on a back burner. So, the past five years have taught us some things about the importance of community care and self-care. It taught us to not wait too long to do what we can start today.

 

 

 

 

Its Been Awhile.

Hello from the other side of the 2016 elections. I know, it is well on the other side. But we have been busy. We have been doing what we jokingly call “training for the revolution”. Getting fit and strong, being engaged in the community, working to make a difference. I went door to door working on progressive campaigns for the November 2018 elections. Kim and I have been actively involved in Art Builds, painting/printing, making banners and signs for various causes, organizing to help the resistance be coordinated, well-designed, equipped with tools.

But the Art Builds are so much more than just helping a march, protest or strike look good. They are a community building event, an energizing phenomenon, like a barn raising, where people of all stripes, all ages and abilities come together to work in whatever way they are able to help make a difference toward a particular goal. It is an active, intensive three day (usually) event that is open to all and often draws hundreds of volunteers each day. We have done numerous Art Builds in Milwaukee with Voces de la Frontera, the Milwaukee Teacher Education Association (MTEA), Black Lives Matter and others. But we have also flown to LA and to Oakland to work with the local National Education Association (NEA) teachers unions and their creative communities there as they prepared for a possible strike. In the case of LA, the teachers won. The Art Build helped build energy and enthusiasm and equipped the unions and membership with large colorful banners and signs to demonstrate visually their unity and power. The Oakland Art Build was just a few months later and it prepared Oakland teachers for their strike which is happened shortly after. The Art Builds have become a…a movement that is gaining traction. The beauty of the Art Build is that anyone can organize one. It can be small or large with a small or a large budget. Try it! Bring your kids, your grand kids, your friends, your students. Visit artbuildworkers.com to learn more.

Note: This post was written in early 2019 but was only saved in draft form. We have since done almost 20 Art Builds all over the country with union locals and NEA.

Saying "Hi" Brings Health...So Smile and Say Hello

A warm greeting is a very simple and basic gift that we should be giving often, everyday, even to strangers. Making eye contact with a stranger, smiling and saying hello as you pass one another on the street, is a gesture of kindness, an acknowledgment of your common humanity and can change the course of another person’s day, and your own.

Over the past few years my wife and I, walking in the city a great deal, have noticed, and had numerous discussions about, the alarming decline in the number of people who are willing to make eye contact and say hello when passing on a city sidewalk.

We have wondered about this withdrawal from one another, whether it is due to technology and a tendency to be plugged in at all times, almost defensively, with headphones/music blocking outside sound and phone/texting distracting us from our surroundings. But those technology distractions are only a small percentage of the population that we encounter. Perhaps it is a response to specific fears of danger due to media hype, and an overload of information making people need or want to not engage. Fear sells and people often buy it.

Having strangers ignore a greeting, actively avoid eye contact, look at us (two middle aged women) strangely for being friendly only makes a person feel more alienated, unsafe, more lonely in the midst of a city of people hungry for real connection. It is hard not to take it personally, but we don’t let it deter us in our warmth and outreach. Those who do respond do so with what feels like gratitude, acknowledgement of the positive impact in that moment.

Years ago, as a college art student with a paper route that took me into tall apartment buildings, I smiled and greeted a young man as I got on the elevator to ride up to the top floor where we both got off. He had smiled back but was clearly shy about talking further. When I left the elevator I told him to have a good day and he responded with similar positive wishes to me. Over time I saw him often in that building and began to get to know him. We became friends. He later confided in me that the day that I first greeted him he had decided to take his own life and was going home from work to his apartment to do that. But my simple gesture of warmth toward him was just enough to give him hope and made him change his mind and live. That story has stayed with me as a testament to the power of a simple warm greeting.

My wife Kim and I have always been the “smile and say hello” types but we have begun to really work to make sure to warmly greet everyone that we see, to really see them, to notice their beautiful eyes, their smiles, try to make sure that we are a part of the solution, part of a powerful sharing of humanity, of a building up of decency. And you know what? It makes me feel better to do that. As our friend Nina, an Iranian American artist says. In Iran, in Farsi, they have a “Saying “Hi” brings health”. Meaning that it brings health to the giver, to the receiver and to our community.

As a continuation of my wife Kim's Blessings Project, that has taken several forms over the past 20 years, we are working on a campaign that will have stickers, a website and other means of communicating/encouraging people to join us in building a warmer more connected community.

So, when someone is approaching you. please don’t actively avoid eye contact. Smile and say hello to your fellow humans…people! Keep MKE Warm (and every community).

 

Letters

I have always been a letter writer. Real letters, preferably hand written and enclosed in an envelope with a carefully selected stamp, are to me some of the best gifts that a person can give. Real letters allow people to delve more deeply into their views about life. Real letters where people get to know aspects of each other in a thoughtful exchange, an unfolding (literally), a private conversation can reveal some of our deepest thoughts, reckless ponderings, memories, a sharing of information that might prove vital to who/what we are becoming as human beings.

Historically we often have only known the truth (or more of it) about women's lives through their letters as often the women in question were not included in the history books. They didn't make the evening news (not their good works, anyway). The biographies that I have read recently have been able to be written only because of the individual's letters which reveals to us their minds, their hearts, their intentions, their untold accomplishments and aspects of their relationships to others.

I read the book Firebrand and the First Lady this summer which was simultaneously the story of a written correspondence between two women, one very well known (Eleanor Roosevelt) and one lesser known to most (Pauli Murray) and it also served as a biography of Murray and her incredibly inspiring life and accomplishments. Murray, over the course of several decades helped to inform Eleanor Roosevelt's work, her national radio discussions, her influence during the Roosevelt Administrations, making her awareness more relevant and social justice oriented. I was so excited to learn about Pauli Murray and the incredible acts of bravery that she performed throughout her life, as well as her deeply spiritual explorations, her accomplishments as a published poet and writer, as a leader in law, as an organizer for various social justice causes including unfair labor practices, wrongful/racially motivated death row verdicts, segregation laws. She accomplished many firsts and should, by all rights, be a household name in America. But she was poor, African American and a lesbian so many of her accomplishments were not mainstream news. I highly recommend the book that will be out soon in paperback. If it were not for the letters between those two ladies her story may not have been told as completely as this book offered.

I have recently begun to write letters again, after a few years of letting that practice, that had been so important to me for several decades, slide. I want my young adult nieces and cousins to understand the power that they hold...a letter as a gift, as an opening, a document of their lives, their growth, their power.

Love Letter

Is it crazy to say that it feels like much of my work is a love letter of some kind to Life?...to moments, to people,  to the parts of our spirit that knows more than we will ever understand? I know that it sounds perhaps a little foolish to say this. But lets face it... Love can make us appear a bit foolish...can make us take risks and have a devil-may-care attitude.  Love, after all, cannot be contained. It demands to be shared, will sneak out of every pore even when you try to contain it. It inhabits every part of us, heightens our senses, makes us more impulsive and expressive.

That is what love letters to life do.  They provide a pressure valve release to things that cannot be contained and in doing so, share these things with the world or whomever will engage; those who are open to such messages. I want to be clear that I am not speaking of just romantic love here. Though I am fortunate to have a beautiful, romantic relationship now in its 10th year. No, I am talking about things that bring us joy, things that teach us hard lessons, things that make us realize how amazing and miraculous it is that life happens, that our cells and organs all work together to give us this experience of breathing, thinking, feeling, experiencing beauty, pain, loss, longing. Some people go through life taking that for granted. But I try to be grateful each day, to try to understand all that I have and learn from it, share it, make good use of it. That is a love for life in all of its joys and sorrows, difficulties and learning moments...and to that I make work that brings together aspects of my experience, my love of learning, my humanity and my role on this earth as one of many species that live and work together.

When I work in the garden I am in awe of nature and small, wondrous beauties. Love.

When I visit my elderly mother and she smiles, has a moment of clarity and joy with me I feel intense gratitude for all that she has taught me about joy, love, gratitude, all that she is still teaching me everyday.

When I wonder that I have found someone with whom I share my life, its joys, its challenges, its potential, I wonder at how easily love has come to us together and deepened over time. I had thought love difficult before with others in shorter attempts at grown-up relationships---that were perhaps more about loneliness and safety...about learning something that I needed to learn, but not about deeper understanding...not the love that I ultimately needed. Now we are in our 10th year together and we have fun everyday. We make each other better people by our togetherness. We take care of each other and tend to our relationship. We have built a sense of home with each other that is deep and powerful.

My work is about many things...my memories, things that I have read, life, history difficulties and joys, mysteries of life, losses and gains. I have a deep reverence for life and am in a state of wonder at it. I create love letters without realizing it sometimes, it just comes out sometimes even when I think that I am making work about something more serious. But then, what is more serious (and also joyful) than love?

 

Wonder...

Josie Osborne -- Wonder…

I have often described myself as an optimistic pessimist, a contradiction in perspectives that allows for a simultaneous balance and tension in those two potentially conflicting views and life approaches. I have come to realize that balance and tension manifest themselves visually and physically in my art work.

The title Wonder… implies the childlike wonder of the optimist fueled by realizations about life, spiritual ponderings, natural world phenomena, beauty in all of its forms and the magic that happens in play. But there is also a sense of a different wonder-ing in a somewhat skeptical way about the more difficult aspects of our experience, the interruptions of the joyful wonder with cold reality, pain and an awareness of injustice in the world. We cannot afford to dwell too heavily in either of those two realities but must find a balance between them in order to live, love and find the more complex meaning in life.  This balance exists, even in the cycles of life, longing, love, loss and play. There are both the wonderful and the wondering experiences at work together.  

Working with assemblage and collage gives me an opportunity to filter my experiences, thoughts, memories, absurdity, complexity and poetry of life while joining aspects of those connections into objects. I have often described it as serious play as it lends itself to intuitive and whimsical juxtapositions, absurd transformations and all within an ordered and fairly serious space. Studio time and making art is a reflective and meditative practice for me, providing a balance to the hectic and often challenging outside world, while creating objects that, at least metaphorically, order it.

 

Note: This is the essay/statement from my solo exhibition Wonder... at Walkers Point Center for the Arts in Milwaukee Wisconsin. The show runs through July 9th, 2016

Quiet

 

Quiet – Walker’s Point Center for the Arts

Quiet. it’s a feeling, a sense, an experience that we cherish in different ways throughout our lives. Quiet is something that I personally find that I have to make space and opportunity for in my life as adult obligations, jobs, politics, technology and the multi-tasking nature of contemporary and urban life compete with it.

Quietude should never be confused with silence for they are most often quite different experiences with different effects upon an individual. It should also be said that, depending upon the individual, quiet can be found in myriad ways and places.

As a child I had secret places to which I would retreat alone, as many kids do, a clearing in the woods was a favorite where I could lay on my back and stare up at the opening between the branches of the huge old oak trees and the sky. I could hear the wind, the distant bullfrogs, the buzzing insects. I could feel and smell the mossy earth and leaves, could feel the grass beneath and around me and I could spend hours there thinking, looking and quietly pondering life. Even in winter I could go there, hearing my own breathing as I lay in the insulating snow around and beneath me.

I also get a sense of quiet when in the studio I lose track of time in that magical combination of both play and work, fueled by intuition, curiosity, repeated action, intense focus and the joy of making.

I find myself drawn to work that is quiet in its power. The experience of sitting in a room of Agnes Martin paintings or Cy Twombly sculptures has given me that sense of quiet power.

All three of the artists in this exhibition rely on quiet or quietude as a source of power in their work. All three artists offer the viewer an opportunity for a contemplative experience far from the madness of the world outside. Not running from it, but offering a refueling so that we might more easily work within it.

Tyler Meuninck’s paintings and drawings rely on the sense of solitude that one feels even in urban environments looking out at spaces not inhabited by other human beings. His palette, mark-making and compositions enhance the experience with their textural blurred focus, as though starring in a relaxed way at something while simultaneously being lost in thought about other things, letting one’s mind wander in a way that creative, and hopefully all minds do.

Kevin Giese’s sculptural work responds directly to and uses materials found in nature, trees, stones, goose down, algae and grasses. His work creates objects that seem to reference landscape, totemic and religious fetish forms and process as well as a reverence for the natural world with his own connection to it that is simultaneously secular and sacred. It also references aspects of his life and experiences, abstracting memories into visually poetic forms that express his connection to and understanding of the natural materials and their source.

Melanie Pankau creates large scale drawings in graphite on mylar that require a great deal of repeated action, mark making, repeated and layered forms creating images that seem to quietly undulate, like breath, in and out. Pankau’s works are influenced by her meditative yoga practice. Her drawings feel at times weightless and other times weighted, and often imply both movement and stillness, light, air, repetition, earthy forms and a sort of spiritual uplifting.

All three artists have an interest in a stillness and quietude, a meditative experience that is not silent or still at all, but actually quite alive and life affirming. It is both a response to and a break from contemporary culture. It is a refueling and regenerating opportunity. Enjoy.

-- Josie Osborne, Curator

 

Exhibition essay from Quiet at Walker's Point Center for the Arts, July, 2011

Yeats' Turning Gyres and Strange Coincidences

Strange coincidences happen to me with some frequency. They probably happen to all people and, if we are paying attention, we are aware of it. A year or so ago, I made an assemblage box in response to, while thinking about, Yeats' poem The Second Coming written in 1919-20. I did nothing more than reread the poem, which I had first read and dissected in a college English class in 1979. At the time I had not thought that I liked it, a little bit put off by its cynicism perhaps, and not seeing it as relevant to my life at the time...pushing away from all things biblical in my rebellion to my upbringing. I do remember being intrigued and troubled by my young English teacher's enthusiastic interpretation of the chaos and the darkness of the vision in the poem. It had both religious references and strangely secular imagery and I do remember that the vision described by the poet was intense and palpable. None the less, the imagery and language has stayed with me over the years, occasionally coming to mind as poetry does.

More recently I had a discussion with an artist friend, Greg Martens, about literary references to the apocalypse and I brought up the Yeatsian vision. In that conversation I realized that some ofthe imagery and some of the lines of that poem have begun to ring true. "Turning and turning in the widening gyre, the falcon cannot hear the falconer". That spinning metaphorical gyre does seem to be widening and intensifying as things heat up in our world politically, with regard to religious fervor, climate change and climate justice issues growing, socio-economic gaps growing and the urgency around all of these front lines causing even the most engaged and empathetic to have to combat a sense of being overwhelmed and shutdown, cynical beyond action.

"The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity"  made me think of the political climate with radical fundamentalism of all of the bigger religions becoming heated and powerfully divisive, attracting more and more thoughtless people in search of easy answers like snowflakes to a snowball rolling downhill, picking up steam and intensity as it goes. Those who know better are often complacent, overwhelmed perhaps by too many emergency issues of human rights, social justice, climate justice....or perhaps feeling like speaking out would be somehow dangerous to their own safety, family, well-being. I have heard some caring people say "That is not my issue." When an injustice did not directly affect their family (or so they told themselves). This all gave me pause to think about what the poem meant to me and do some little drawings in response to it at the time. The drawings that I made and included in the assemblage box were almost mechanical, diagrammatic images of two conical forms lined by a spiral, one going up and one going down that popped into my head while I was reading the words that had been written almost 100 years ago, published in both the Chicago Dial and the Nation in 1920. I had kind of laughed at myself at the time for turning this emotionally charged, dark image into a rather anesthetic, diagram.

Two years after I did those drawings I discovered that Yeats had also made diagrammatic drawings that were strangely similar to those that I had created for my box. What a coincidence, right? I had never been aware of his drawings...which also represented two conical forms with spirals lining each. Weird...a bit haunting, actually. I need to pay attention to more of this kind of thing.

Here is the poem in its entirety:

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?  

---William Butler Yeats, 1919
 

 

Winter

I have been thinking about the past a lot recently. Perhaps it is the time of year. Winter in Wisconsin brings long shadows, dwindling cool light and the quietude of snow covered days where we hear the crunch of boots in snow, the sound of our own breathing into scarves and feel the burn of dry cold air in our nostrils and lungs. The landscape becomes monochromatic vast swathes of white, gray, pale blue and brown. In adult life this season seems to lends itself to, or even demand, introspection.

Perhaps it is the lack of stimuli in the long dark winter months that drives us inward like starving beings living on stored fat. In this bleaker time we too live on stored experiences where distant past seems to come forward, intermingled with the most insignificant current-life trigger. Our conscious mind rolls in and out of being present, past, pulled back to present and then buried in past again.

Sometimes I use this time to plan for the future gardens, trips, house projects. Planning for the future keeps memory from taking over...memory brings with it a tumultuous mixture of joys, loss, break through experiences, periods of foggy nothing and occasionally powerful moments disconnected by powerful visual, auditory, sensory memory and poetic connections. All of this floats through my consciousness invading and undermining my attempts at being present. I do try to be present and am successful, but only for short periods at a time.

Perhaps too it is the fact that during that darkness and cold of winter I often take on projects that involve going through boxes of old things, sorting, organizing and even purging (always the goal). In doing so I come across pictures that make me think about things differently, old letters, memorabilia or objects that are like puzzle pieces to the larger picture of the past. Often they are parts from what seems like lifetimes ago or even someone else's life. How can objects from our past feel so foreign sometimes?

In this purging I opened a box that had been stored away for years...correspondence and artwork from a past relationship that broke my heart some fifteen years ago. It was so strange to sift through the layers of letters remembering the feelings, both good and bad, but also in doing so to try to reconcile the fact that we are now total strangers; nine hundred miles away and not having seen each other in 8 years despite the fact that I go to the city where she lives often. She had told me that if our relationship ever ended she would cut off all contact with me. I had thought she was joking at the time, incapable of imagining such an extreme step. But she was true to her word. We meant a great deal to each other for a few formative years during which both of us grew in significant ways. I now keep this sizeable box of correspondence as a document of who I was then with her. Letters as witness to a period in our lives. Letters to help me remember in a more balanced way both the good and the problematic aspects of that time together. That time brought me to where I am now and for that I am grateful. While there are no bright blossoms or sweet smells lingering in the evening air, winter brings us gifts in unexpected packages.

Memory Lost and Memory Saved

 Memory...something that I have been thinking more about lately as I visit mom, whose memory of recent events has dramatically diminished and whose memory of distant past has crept into the present with little separation between the two. Past and present have become one for her. But the past is dominant, alive, current, devouring the less powerful present, subsuming it. I try to be present with mom in the time that we have together, not too worried about what the near future will bring for her. Not anticipating and experiencing loss before it happens.

My artwork has relied on distant memories mixed with present moments for years now. Though in saying that, as I address those current moments in my works they become recent past and then more distant. Time cannot afterall be captured and preserved in a shadow box. But the ideas, fleeting images or impressions can.

I have noticed another change in my work now that I have something to lose, that I willfully fight off fear or uncertainty about future loss. When making work in the studio, when spending time with my mother or with my wife or dear friends, I need to work to be present, joyful, grateful for the time that we have together. We can acknowledge that our time here is fleeting in the big picture. But gratitude for having even a fleeting moment is the appropriate response to such realizations.

Responding to the Collage Impulse

Responding to the Collage Impulse…

Solace, quiet contemplation and creative play provide an antidote to our busy, noisy and increasingly mediated day-to-day experiences. When engaging in these quieter activities, we seek a balance between fast-paced lives and that rich interior existence that brings together memory, imagination, emotions, and the sensory and poetic awareness of the complex layers of experience that make up our identity and our understanding of the world.

That is what making art does for me. Working with collage and assemblage helps me to understand and synthesize my life experience, to make the intangible physical. It also helps me to transform the difficult side of life into beauty.

I often look to the written word, found text and poetry as important stepping-off points for my work that both directly reflects my own life experience and the world around me.  In my assemblage pieces and collages the elements used and the organization or treatment of space often references dreams, memories, experiences, architectural spaces (especially a stage structure) and a modernist influenced language of color, shape, line and diagrammatic mark-making.