J G

J G Ballard died this past weekend. He was one of my favorite writers. One of those rare people who could articulate with words what I struggle to do with paint. I have many apertures in my head that open to places he invented. There are crystalline psychologies, rampant weathers, dire contemplations of ingestion, and the pure, hard stare into the landscape of this Kali Yuga.

Spring Garden

With the help of Feather (above) and the man with the Martian egg (below) I worked through the old foliage, stems and leaves to uncover the bones of the garden. The flowers were all the more sweet in their delicate radiance surrounded by the dun of earth.
I particularly love the bluebells and windflowers. Such cool tones are rare in the petal world.

off the cliff again

OK, here we go, taking a running jump into northeast Wolffland, off the little overhang of today into the clear abyss, scribbling in geometry (of a sort), body, buildings and cosmos (not drawn in-you'll have to imagine it flourished across the sky, squeezing through the brickwork (also not drawn in) and dancing on the the court lines) on the down glide, down fly, falling, falling, not yet landed---see you there...

Blue Roses

The same color as a four-armed God's skin...
Its the time of blue roses, just before avatars push aside boulders and go off to other places...
Two days ago it snowed and today I find flowers in the color of summers deepest sky.

stars with music

The painting has its own soundtrack: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=On5372UztI0

Star Guitar Unmasked

We took the masking tape off the star guitar. It still needs its hardware jewelry--but see how happy its parents are with it....

stars in my pocket

The outer space blackboard gets a bit more developed....apologies to my friend Chip Delany for swiping part of one of his titles....

Star Guitar & sibling

So the star guitar's back has its whirling nebulae. A drift of interstellar gas wisps up the neck to a cluster of small stars.




It hangs next to its offspring, the second blackboard space painting--just begun:

Sky Dive

photo: Jan Meissner

Britt Nhi in her double hoop act based on her sky diving experience in New Zealand.

Spring in Brooklyn

Yesterday I went out to Brooklyn to visit Sally & Larry. The greenhouse is already having problems containing the flourish of growth. The pond is thick with fin and ripple. I didn't see the turtle or frog but have been told that they are alive and swimming.
The bulbs are up. The hellebore's are blooming.
...and there was food...home made bread, hummus, meatballs and chocolate cake.
The world revives and smiles.

Views from Mt Diablo

Recent Sketches

California

Movement

Often I find that traveling from New York City is unnerving in its preparations and anxiety, but once actually moving away from and through some other space, bouyant and loosening. The lift of a plane or the rackety speed of a train flings the carapace of daily expectation beneath wheels, wings or feet. That being true--of course the run up to such freedom is a seemingly unending Cat-In-the Hat balancing trick of arrangements and timing. I remember as an art school student just taking off with a friend and hitch hiking to where ever--with just a small backpack and no sense of time.
Well I make better paintings now but am less fluid & spontaneous...perhaps all of that has gone into the pictures.

Birthday

For my birthday I was given this sculpture--which above is bravely sailing off over the Afghan war rug.
...and then below has alighted on the green shelves next to Virgil's cartwheel and Beth's cosmic nuclear dance.

Spring

The wanderer has returned with nothing worse than a bloody nose, bruises and a woozy head. The light you see above is spring light. It has a different quality from winter light, even if the temperature is still a bit razor-cringe.
And this is what is happening in a Brooklyn backyard:


photo: Larry Hedrick

Wandering

An old man leaves his building and decides to walk somewhere (his son's house, perhaps?). He is seen crossing the street unwisely in traffic. The police are called and he is returned to his building. Again he leaves and walks a fair way and falls. Again the police are called and take him to the hospital. I'm waiting to hear what has befallen him. My brother says he will call when he gets to the hospital.

March

photo: Larry Hedrick

Its the time of the fish. Its the time of contradictions, one day the sun's amorous kiss, the next a slap of bitter wind up from the harbor. Its the month of dire weather romance. A good time to bake a cake, paint another picture, and not take oneself too seriously. I, the oneself, have a history of too-serious-taking along with a sort of cavalier what-the-fuckness. Total Pisces.
I salute all the other popcorn brains out there! The finned hither and therers, the lookers for jewels in the ambient chaos.
Personally I run over my birthday on the 15, along with the ghost of Julius (et tu, Wolff?). Smack in the middle of winter and spring tongue tied in a wet, muddy embrace.

Aerial Video

from Above the Belt

Pisces Meelee

The snow and the stars---on fire escapes, sky and inside the studio on guitars and old, aluminum-covered blackboards....