Sunday, April 24, 2011

A Working Sabbath

I found myself working on Easter Sunday. All of my family is in the San Antonio vicinity, for one. Boerne, Texas - Bergheim, Texas - and San Antonio proper.  It is 270 miles from my Feng Shui-approved red door to my mother's 50-year old green screen door.  I don't mind the drive at all - I love driving. It's somehow transcendental for me. It's just I'm not 100% sure my little truck can make it lately. Little Reddy is showing her age in truck years. She still purrs, but her paws are in need of a mani-pedi.

Yes, we're still talking about my truck, not my mother.

Normally I make the trek for major holidays, because with everyone's mixed schedules and priorities, holidays are the only time we can seem to find a way for everyone to be together in the same room.  That's what I have missed most this day - that time-lapse documentary of where my nieces and nephews are now. Who's pregnant and who's been on any adventures lately.  Who's got the dirtiest joke and who wants dessert.

Me?  My family thinks I live some outrageous lifestyle of swinging gallery openings and elbow-rubbing with celebrity art collectors. But in reality, I spent Easter Sunday in the studio 2 miles from here, painting up samples for an art consultant for a new project.  They came out okay, but I'm not at all that jazzed about hospitality gigs other than the occasional high-volume work.

No, I'm more excited by a new body of work emerging from the drawing board that has been simmering for several months.  A series of drawings and sculpture based on my warped-since-birth hearing and how music & conversation has it's own swirling amalgam of tablature and distortions. Sometimes with fascinating musical results, not to mention fabulous non sequitur dialogues.

More on that as it develops.

But for now, I reflect upon trying to discover the hidden correlation between Jesus the Christ's cruel death and a 20-foot high blow-up bunny? At least both seemed to look to the heavens in hopes of being delivered.  All I wanted was some killer tacos from Fuel City where this photo was taken.

Happy Easter indeed.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Ex Nihilo: The Artist

To make something from nothing: Ex Nihilo. No one can argue the God-like parallels in being a Creator. We are all endowed by our own creator inclinations, talents, strengths and weaknesses in making something of our lives with the hopes that in the end, we have left our mark - whether literally, as with the artist - or figuratively, in having re-created other versions of us.

The idea that an artist can leave this planet with everything she or he has within them having been said, does not seem possible. It would seem the body or the faculties may run themselves ragged before the Genie within our studio walls (Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert) plays its final tacit note.

From nothing: Words.
From nothing: Beauty.
From nothing: Love.

From nothing: Something.