Yearend 1992 was full of portraits,
children, seasons and fun. Frank Sanatra said, "it was a very good
year", and it was.
Peter Olevnik and I paint together and
spend many a Saturday afternoon doing "the art thing".
Pete is much more interested in the
social aspects of art than me, though we spend a lot of time speculating on
what is art, and the future of art, and our futures in art as well. One thing
we both
agree on is Rochester, New York is very
conservative, and not the center of the art world, which accounts for the fact
that neither of us have been discovered. I joke about this now, but the pile of
canvas will soon need a place to go and
the local art dealers are not a reasonable option.
Pete is painted blue because that is his
favorite color, and he's been in a blue period since I've known him.
Portrait
of Peter Olevnik (9/92)
Of all the self-portraits, this one is of
my favorites. It has many facets to it. First, it's one of, or probably the
most realistic, thought by no means photographic. It has intensity and color
capturing
what I saw at the time. It's a strong
painting. Previous works, self-portraits, were not much more the
"gestures", feelings while this effort has presence. The picture
looks forward and for that I am grateful.
Every once and a while I get to see my
children these days, as that's the way it is, apparently,
with teenagers and ex-wives. The portra1t
of my son Joshua was done from a small class
picture he sent to me and it's attached
to the painting. I realize that just about the last place teenagers want to be
is with their parents, especially a parent who never really lived with them,
but that doesn't mean I don't miss them,
terribly. Joshua always played second fiddle to his older
brother, and because I know this and can
feel as well as see the hurt, this painting is titled "Asking".
I know he wonders what he has to do for
recognition, just a little. It's a difficult thing to watch.
I love you Joshua, always have, always
will.
Portrait
of Joshua Beatty (10/92) -"Asking".
Jason has been his mother's pride and joy
since day one and, consequently, has had what I would describe as an
unrealistic time of it. Always having to be the "man of the house"
cost him his
childhood, and always being led to
believe every task he completed was wonderful could cost him his future. I see
him afraid and pretending not to be struggling, as I struggle with the thought
of
my son as my victim. It helps me to
remember why I couldn't live with their mother, and I'm hoping he can find the
way to his own self and have a life of his own. Jason, you don't have to be
perfect, you just have to be you.
Portra1t
of Jason Beatty (11/92) -"Trying".
Painting should, like everything else, be
fun. Sometimes I forget, and the struggle becomes the point. Take a big brush,
or better yet several, and just have at it. Nothing can be wrong, don't stop,
forge on and you'll see, feeling that wonderful freedom. Only in judging your
self too harshly do YOU prevent your own progress. Be kind to your self.
Cars going up Lake Avenue on a snowstorm
day, the buildings on both sides of the street watched the follies. Winter's
tests in Upstate New York make the spring seem all the sweeter. Usually, in
March or so, I think I'd like to live in the tropics but eventually come to
realize how much I'd miss the seasons. Better to know this now than spend some
unfortunate summer in panama, or some other South American country.
An abstract painting can be anything you
want it to be. This one looks to me like James Taylor playing music with his
ease, like a sunny day.
James
Taylor playing Up on the Roof (12/92)
Find each other, and be,
together that’s all there is.
Drips, pours, splashes,
December having fun. Having fun.
I got the urge to show again about a year
after the end of the Queen's Head and Asparagus so,
in December twelve works went up for
public display. Judy made food, we brought wine, the
public showed up but nothing happened.
One guy, a local painter who gave me his card said, “I can show you how to fix
things”. I didn't take him up on his offer. My expectations are still stupid.
You can have expectations and do these
displays unless you enjoy rejection. A year later a guy did call and wanted me
to decorate his bar. We talked, but there was no reason for me to do it so I
didn't.
Ode
to my one-man show at the Pyramid Gallery
This picture, 1992 Summary, and the last
painting in this book, 1994, represent bookends
of sorts, with 1993 (also know as
"The Cheese Stands Alone) defining the mid point.
I'm sure this pile of work is connected
via the links of these pictures, their meanings, their time, and still
sometimes I can't believe they've come from my hand.
