“Tales Waiting To Be Told”
I have always been a storyteller, and I have always been a drawer. I discovered at age six that I had a talent for drawing, and that began a lifelong quest to “get it right”… to figure out the secret language of drawing that would allow me to articulate what was running around in my imagination.
I use, mostly, the human face and figure, and am especially fond of eyes, mouths, hands, and feet, as I find them very expressive. I do a lot of drawing from life, in order to learn, as best I can, the language of drawing. I have little interest, though, in recreating observed realities. I prefer instead to make realities of my own observations, musings, desires, and beliefs. For me, the impulse toward flight, the urge to grow beyond one’s self, the quest for connection with another… these are lovelier and more compelling subjects than a bouquet of flowers, an elk, or even a mountain.
As I get older, I am more and more inclined toward narrative, and less and less toward certainty. All of these drawings have stories to tell. They invite you to write your own endings.
The moment of decision, whether to hold on to what we love or let it go, defines who and what we will become.
Awe and wonder need neither religion nor chemicals, but just a mind and heart open to mystery.
“Hail, Blithe Spirit”
The spirit reaches toward freedom, even as it clings to safety. I am, at the same time, both he who leaps to freedom and he who lingers.
“By Leaps, Unbound”
Same song, second verse.
“Impediments to Intimacy”
… are usually self-imposed.
“In Pursuit Of Dancing Angels”
I am quite convinced that there is far more room on the point of a pencil, than on the head of a pin.
“Arabian Night # 1002”
…picking up where Scheherazade left off.
“Comoedia Vita Persevero”
The Comedy of life continues.
I was working on the drawing of the Comedy of Life, when I heard of the shooting of 26 kids in an Elementary school, and I drew this weeping clown… but to quote Paul Simon, “Sometimes, even Music cannot substitute for tears.” Art is, in the end, inadequate, but it’s all we have.
A mythological tale about the courtship of the Sun and Mother Earth.
I’m not altogether sure I understand this one, yet. It seems to be, at least in part, about balance. This character, though grotesque, seems to have found a bit of joy while balancing on a single knuckle.
“What We Have Here…”
… is a failure to communicate.
“The Raven Knows How To Keep a Secret”
I came home from Alaska wanting to draw Ravens. This one had a look in his eye that seemed to say “I know something that you don’t.” Recent research into corvid intelligence suggests he might be right.
“Prophet still, if bird or Devil…”
Drawing ravens sent me back to Poe:
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!–prophet still, if bird or devil!– Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted– On this home by Horror haunted–tell me truly, I implore– Is there–is there balm in Gilead?–tell me–tell me, I implore! “ Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
“The Mermaid’s Tale”
“A Dilemma of Possibilities”
Sometimes there are just too many of them, and paralysis ensues.
“The Empty Sea”
When we have given all we can give…
“The Continuing Economic Experiment”
Full disclosure: This one is a political statement.
“Ship of Fools”
So’s this one.
“Testing the Proverb”
Hmmm. I’ve got this one firmly in hand, but those two over there in the bush…
“Speak No Evil”
Self-censorship is so hard!”
The images of celestial messengers that once abounded in my imagination are dissolving slowly… slowly…
“Seek Not Afar For Beauty”
The sublime is both grander and more intimate than we’d imagined.
Yearning, reaching, striving, growing, constantly emerging.
“Just Before Waking”
Sometimes, just before waking…
… a kiss.
“Mulling It Over”
And over. And over.
“Periodic Assessment of Pain”
Sometimes life hurts.
But we keep moving toward enlightenment.
These two are in response to the death of my friend and mentor Richard Evans.
“Dancing Around the Voids”
And, the Comedy of Life goes on, but dancing around the void requires ever greater contortions.