Of course ideal perfection is a dream. Until words come out on paper, are worked and reworked, are spoken out loud; until paint on board or canvas is smeared away in frustration to reveal the unplanned perfection of the spontaneous, the palette knife replacing the brush as error reveals a better truth, an image unplanned, like the checkmate discovered by accident; until the hands get dirty and the mind is worn to a headiness beyond the ocular burn of the screen; until then the ideal is unrealized. It takes the erroneous work of the hands to teach the mind how to think, to know truths the bones want to teach. As with the Velveteen Rabbit, reality only follows the rubbing off of fake fur: when the toy is ready for the burn pile, then it becomes alive.
Reclaimed Board, oil, board
Decreation, oil and board canvas
Horse Pasture Abstract, ink
Red Self, oil on camvas
Grazing, pen and ink
Pine Branch, pen and ink
White Pine, pen and ink
Barbed Wire, pen and ink
Landscape Redux, reclaimed paint-by-numbers and Sharpie