Skip to main content

To be or not to be


To be or not to be, what can be fully understood, life is much more complicate.

To complicated, the example of oil on canvas can never portray. Oil on canvas is the offering of the static and beautiful the overlooked or unappreciated simplicity of composition and environment. I talk of course from the view of a painters wife. Someone who deals with the day to day issues of life, and the structure and support of a family and business. So life is more complexed for me. Caos is some fluid productive state. So to see the painter return from his day on the hillside all contemplative, without time for dishes or the chop wood carry water necessities of life I can be frustrated and his ungrounded reality. But then I touchdown on his world in the form of solid encapsulations of his meditation in oil. Far reaching from my point of hormonal surfing, but I welcome every glimpse, every smudge of paint. So blooming meaningful sometimes it takes me weeks or months to truly understand and see the painting for the first time. Many make me weep for the magic they hold. But the artist makes me weep more for his unattachment to life and family. His resentment of our interuptions and noise in his presence. How valid are we in the way we collide. Am I wrong because I don't conform to his way of existing. Is he wrong because he doesn't respond to my world of existence. Or are we not all just trying to be exactly who we are really meant to be.


Simpler things, ok hardly simply

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Hans Holbein Connection

On our second year in the Wild West I took a trip without the painter, back to the Sequoia's where we used to live. It was an epic journey, extended by fleeing Los Angeles within 10 hours of getting there. Thus extending my time in the mountains by 4 days. It was prime time for my architipal journey. The solitary mind was flowing script and having visions that were then fulfilled. The swiftest of which was manifesting a bear within an hour of having the day dream while sleeping in a meadow on some unknown hill that beaconed me off the road. Yep it was one of those adventures. A time of independence and fulfillment that was an alixier that I was yearning for. During this trip, among other things I purchased on old postcard from the Louvre of Hans Holbein's portrait of d'Anne de Cleves. A rather osteir portrait of a woman, hands clenched, rings on most fingers, and an indifferent look on her face. I remember flicking through the cards, regarding it, and then
1 comment
Read more

To meet or not to meat

It was an innocent mistake. Truely. Although yes at some stage I did glance at the invitation, but details, what are details in an impressionistic world. Seen today, forgotten tomorrow. Such details will never, EVER, be overlooked again. Because today one of those landmark moments in mistakes of the meat kind. The painter and I are really not one for parties. We would rather linger with a few friends and talk all night. We do go to out to our dear friends, but in a small town the intimacy and interaction can almost overwhelm. So either you are out all the time or you are selective and choose those rare opportunities to mingle and merge. Tonights motivation were more for the sake of introducing our friends to their neighbours. But Oh what a faux pas, and a disservice to our friends. So what have we learnt from this event. Never EVER take meat to a raw food house..... and may be more so, NEVER EVER take PORK to a Jewish Home. To say we were marched out
1 comment
Read more

Fair weather friends

I am surrounded by fair weather friends. The slightest storm in a teacup and they flee like fleas on a wetback. Fleaing from adversity as if there were'nt an empathetic bone in their flexible body. 12 years of cocktail raising stands for nothing.
2 comments
Read more