The Way of Ivory Black

The Way of Ivory Black

I’m obsessed with pencil drawings.  Grey lines that layer each other and fill space.  There is something silent about pencil drawings; and these in particular.  They don’t speak loudly, and they won’t accept color and they won’t accept the depth of black.  They reject dark matter, they reject that there is an unknown in this universe.  I keep trying to put color into the lines, trying to place it somewhere under the grey; a subtle dark blue or true black.  But the lines don’t want it, especially the black; they want to be grey. Ivory Black, it says on this pencil.  What the does that mean?  For all these years, I have my Ivory Black pencils and Ivory Black paint and I always look at that name in wonder.  The obscurity of the deep black with a name called Ivory Black.  It seems wonderful and strange and almost yummy, like some comfort food that you turn to when nothing else will suffice.  And the yin yang effect, almost bounces me around in a balanced way, the same way a yo-yo moves up and down it’s string, when you achieve the perfect balance between your body and the speed of the yo-yo itself.    But the metallic grey lines of my graphite don’t like Ivory Black.  It’s too dense, it breathes in a different way than graphite does.   Maybe it’s the paper.  I don’t like thin smooth paper.  It feels not right.  I need weight and strength to the paper, so I used my watercolor paper.  The heavy rough raw cold pressed paper that has been my friend for so very...
A Matter of the Universe Climbing a Thread

A Matter of the Universe Climbing a Thread

I’m watching a spider hanging down from a thread in a tree. The weavers of the universe; the threads of their webs like pathways into different dimensions, circular in nature, revealing the structure of the multi-verses and how they connect and layer upon each other.  I’m following the thread with my eyes; the morning dew around it warps the sunlight and shows me the bending of space; the way out of this world and into the spiraling calm that opens the doorways to the other-worlds.  I’m breathing in and I’m breathing out.  Breathing in and breathing out, watching the spider moving up and down the thread that is attached to the tree branch just above my head.  I close my eyes and listen to a cricket singing softly not too far away, and I’m letting go of all the thoughts in my head.  I fell out of balance with Earth’s rotation last week, tumbling into the 3D world of the physical and crashing into civilization, asking myself the age-old question of what am I doing here? And why is the world so confused?  So I’m trying to get my balance back, and I’m breathing in and breathing out and closing my eyes I begin to calm and drift deeper towards the other world….. What is that spider doing?  Is it close to my head?  What if it comes all the way down and jumps on me???!  It could be sitting on my back! Just waiting for my most unsuspecting moment and then, hours from now it will bite me….  I snap open my eyes and look up, to see...
The Chicken Question

The Chicken Question

So I’m thinking about cubes.   What is a cube exactly?  Four sides; four times; squares on top of squares, inside of squares, next to squares.  Is this dimension we actually exist in?  Is this art?  Can I paint a cube?  Can it be inside of a flower?  Can painting a cube within a cube within another cube inside of a flower teach me something about the circular nature of the universe and all the dimensions that co-exist with us?  So I’m thinking about painting.  Paint.  Oil paint.  Tubes of paint and gallons of paint.  The thick creamy tubular shape I squeeze out onto a palette.  Can all of this fit inside a cube?  A golden cube, held up on the backs of angels.  This is the art.  This is the way through the door, to transform a flat white surface into another world, filled with dimensions and the shifting of light. So is that all inside a cube?  Butterflies inside of cubes; Grids of Butterflies, flying through the connected cubes that fit inside each other.  Is all of this happening within a flat surface that actually holds all the dimensions and all the universes all the time?  Sounds like a painting, sounds like art.  It makes me think of the flea circus in Another Roadside Attraction, and Calder’s circus and how Pollack painted.  How did Pollack paint?  Billions of lines and dots and lingering drops of paint that swirled in massive confusion that somehow made absolute perfect sense and could easily bring a person to tears.  Layers and layers and layers of dots and lines and colors and more...
Merging & Splitting

Merging & Splitting

Your paintings are so serene; the colors are so intense, what inspires your art? This question is always the hardest for me to answer.  Mostly I just smile, and say its nature.  Which is true.  But it’s the hidden aspects of nature that inspires my art.  The unseen natural world and the explosions of color, both serene and psychedelic are the hidden worlds I try to bring into this human realm.  I’ve been meditating since I was a teenager and early on I was taught to focus on the sounds of the Earth to quiet me down and take me inside.  Ocean waves on the beach, crickets, the fluttering wings of birds and the wind gently blowing through the trees…  all became my teachers, all are the driving force of my art and the forces that push me deeper into the realms of the netherworlds, where color allows light to take form and interact with my inner world. Mornings I get up early, just before dawn.  There is no other time during the 24 hour cycle of our Earths spinning that is as filled with magic as the last hour of night as it gives way to the edge of morning.  To be deep in the innerspace of inter-dimensional timelessness as the sun travels upwards of the Earth’s shore is an experience that has changed my life completely.  Serenity and the link with the universe overflows every aspect of my being, and I breathe deeply into the dark of night as it turns midnight blue and gently gives way to violet, and the glowing lines of orange and red...