I want to tell the whole story of my art, of your art, of anybody’s art. Whatever I learned, I got there by a particular path.  It wasn’t always a brilliant success.  I’ve made many bad drawings along the way.  (What about you?)  Yet sometimes it happens also to be true that a drawing had a specific purpose, humble though it might have been, that formed a necessary bridge from here to there.

I find old notebooks stashed away that hold strange and mysterious pictures. Sometimes I cannot identify what it was I drew.   Cannot tell up from down.  Don’t know what purpose they served, what thing I sought.  They are things that just float.  Fragments of fragments, unhinged from any goal.

Yet they have a weird sort of charm (for me at least).  They are the refrigerator pictures of my artistic childhood.  I was an adult in making them, but I was only taking baby steps toward whatever destination I had set for myself.  They are visual mumblings.

Some of them, that is.  This one is a brilliant success.


4 thoughts on “The Whole Story

  1. yeah. all of the above makes perfect sense. we get to where we are now by the path of everything that has gone on before – yes. and it all has a place and value for us from which we can learn new lessons over and over and over that we did not even know were there at the time we did what we did originally. at least that’s how i see it. and imo, that’s very cool.

    …so is your… lined sketchbook image. cool.

  2. Thank you, Rick. So true — the necessity of the everything that came before. Glad you like the picture of — whatever it is — I like the lines too, adds a certain je ne sais pas to the other je ne sais pas.

  3. aloha Aletha – you know… i often forget how much i like texture in painting and other 2-Dimensional surfaces. thinking about this page after i’d commented – i remembered. i think that feel of an enriched texture is one of the things that appeals to me in this. plus the color of course.

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