(collection of Rachel Rogers)
The first painting I ever did, two hours start to finish. Oil paint, a wash of watercolor somewhere in the mix, baking soda, rubbing alcohol, charcoal.
(collection of Michele Townsend)
This was painted during dark times, but I felt good when it was done. It took three hours. House paint, charcoal, last of the first batch of oil paint and a lot of people around, too many. Eric’s encouragement and patience was vital during this time.
This is the most personal thing I ever did. I thought about it for months before I dared tackle it. My ex-wife Rachel fell out of a window last year. Even though we were apart, when I saw her in her hospital bed in intensive care, my whole world collapsed. Cut to the present: when I was ready, I did this in four hours, no breaks, not even to piss, smoke, sip water, nothing. I remember crying. Depending on how you look at it, it is either someone falling or someone dancing. I prefer to think she’s dancing…
I went to Agora and sketched the interior from three angles, went home and worked for months on and off. The thing that looks like a tree in the corner is based on a tree grown from a cutting of the original Bo tree that Buddha sat under. Appropriate perhaps, because the damn thing has been through about eight incarnations.
This collage was a breakthrough. I got a styrofoam board and pinned on everything I had been collaging or drawing lately. I was reading the philosopher Julia Kristeva and she talks about how you have to accept everything thats comes out of you AS you. She calls it abjection. I call her krunk. I realized that night that all the prep time was prime time. The things that look like bits of other people’s art are other people’s art; I make no bones about it, let the seams show.
This one was/is so much fun. It’s in progress and has totally changed since I uploaded this image, but I want to think it is going in the right direction. I kept thinking about Kenny Scharf and Chagall while I was working, two painters who I hate.