From July to December 1994.
After controlled comes uncontrolled.
Having always been a fan of Modigliani it was fun painting
his portrait from a magazine photo Dr. Olevnik brought me.
Portrait
of Amedeo Modigliani in 1910 (7/16/94)
Still trying large blocks of colors, opposite one and
another, arranged shapes that try, sometimes saying something.
And so, one day Regina came to see us and saw an unfinished
portrait of Modigliani on the easel and said "I have a
favor of his, will you paint it for me? She brought a copy of what I used for
the base, but the picture came out more looking like Regina holding a baby.
She's banished herself to the prairie for making human mistakes while her
mother and I hope it won’t take her too long to forgive her self.
It's Christmas Day, Sunday 1994. All is Calm, all is bright,
Calm, all is just right.
Black
and White Naked Woman (8/7/94)
The Benetti's are born again, and live across the street on
Rugby Avenue. They have about 30 kids
and Joan, the mother/wife home schools. When we first moved
to Rugby, they brought us a plate of cookies and I gave them a painting (a very
nice Matisse by the way). Since early on we haven't spoken as we have nothing
in common and I've long ago now given up small talk with people I have no
stomach for. I decided one hot August night to paint outside, which
unfortunately still draws a crowd, and produced a nice feeling of Benetti's
house on Rugby. The kids watched me paint most of it before their father, who
thinks I’m a bad influence, I’m sure, rounded them up.
The
Benetti's House on Rugby Avenue (8/24/94)
I used a mirror to do this, but forgot it reverses the way
things look and presto, all of a sudden I'm left handed.
Portrait
of 9/17/94 (self, painting painting)
Painting is symbols.
A tribute to my friend Vincent, as Fall fell into my canvas
as if from his hand to mine.
Still at Saturdays creations, me and the "Doc" he
just turned 60 the 23rd. We had a drink and talked about New York, like always.
Perhaps we'll go there this spring.
Peter
Olevnik, Painting (9/24/94)
So I realized I'd fallen seriously behind in my writing when
the pile of pictures covered more than two years, without comment. Flying into
action, space was set aside for a typewriter and the catching up began in
earnest. The space looks like this.
Writer's
Place in my Studio (10/94)
My version of Vincent's friend, the postman Roulin.
Joseph
Roulin, the Postman (11/13/94)
Still just a little defiant.
I see my brother about every five or so years, and this
Thanksgiving he was home. One afternoon he came over with his three boys, and
he sat for me. We talked; the boys watched and out of this came a wonderful
picture (even my mother said she like it). My mother said, "the more you
look at it, the more it looks like Bill". Great fun, this.
Portrait
of William Allan Beatty (11/29/94)
Somebody once said "if it don't kill ya it'll make you
stronger" and I think that's right. 1994 was like that for me.
From each beginning and through to all ends everything, for
me, is about finding Calm. My Calm is to be while doing better than just
"jotting" it down.
