Yesterday was my seventieth birthday, and I am beginning my third year of retirement, I have one bold request.
As a gift to me, could you subscribe to this blog?
ArtChangesLives(Dot)Com is owned by me and started in grad school almost two decades ago. Subscribing to my blog will help the blog’s rank on Google and other search engines. I hope it will become a place for people to share their thoughts while creating artwork … Meaning any of the arts.
I don’t know if I intend to show or sell my work commercially, but I am heading that way.
Thank you to the artists who agreed to let me link their sites to this site. Most of these individuals are friends.
Art has a vital power to promote understanding of one’s self and the world and provides a path for an artist to self-realize and connect with the known unknown.
It is a big ask, but could you subscribe to this site? I’d appreciate it.
BTW, my 70th birthday was fabulous, hearing from friends and family and spending it with family.
Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye… it also includes the inner pictures of the soul. — Edvard Munch (Virtual Art Academy)
A few days ago, I visited the Contemporary Museum of Los Angeles (MOCA) and saw and enjoyed Henry Taylor Side B show. The exhibition was a retrospective of Henry Taylor’s work—primarily portraits. The work, The Screaming Head, 1999, stopped me. Similar to Edvard Munch’s work The Scream, where I felt fear, panic, and anxiety down in my soul. Taylor’s screaming head, I got the absolute frustration and angst the artist must have experienced as a black man.
it didn’t describe me belonged in the library of words I can’t spell| no matter how many times they tell you just try harder sound it out simple when you think about it. Stop giving me the third degree don’t put me down don’t make me fret I can’t learn my alphabet it doesn’t go in any logical order the stress gives me attention deficit disorder at school I wanted to go it alone they told me that’s unwise they called me unteachable
The drawing wants to draw what is invisible to the naked eye.It’s very difficult.The effort to write is always beyond my strength. What you see here, these lines, these strokes, are rungs on the ladder of writing, the steps which I have cut with my fingernails in my own wall, in order to hoist myself up above and beyond myself.
Cixous, Hélène, and Catherine A. F. MacGillivray. “Without End No State of Drawingness No, Rather: The Executioner\’s Taking Off.” New Literary History, vol. 24, no. 1, 1993, pp. 91–103. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/469272
This drawing lingers for me. Not wanting to call itself done. Yet, even when I call it finished, it calls me back. A friend asked me what I was doing a few times when he called from New York, and I told him, “I am working on a drawing, and it won’t end.” He asked me, “How do you know when it is done… Don’t you stop?” Well, no. You don’t just stop. Some might say I should. I am moving on, but it sits on my desk. Done for the moment.
“Must you know that yours will be the “better” picture before you pick up the brush and paint? Can it not simply be another picture? Another expression of beauty? Must a rose be “better” than an iris in order to justify its existence?”
I had a few busy weeks just wanted to check in and post an image that I completed. Spending my time between working with my monthly meeting and yearly meeting. I am happy I can continue using my design skills to help out.
As I draw, I notice I am becoming more critical of my work. I am slowing down, considering aspects of the drawings more closely. I guess that is why I like this quote. Does the next drawing have to be better than the last? Yes, I want to learn and travel the path with more skill, but skill is produced not only by study but by practice.