"I will never let you hang this" is literally what my wife said to me when I defied her orders by purchasing this painting at a garage sale.
Lord Father and Mother Kinkara, representing the purified hell realm(s): it’s said that in "degenerate times" people will inadvertently open the gates of hell by misusing Dharma. So, a direct invocation perhaps. .
Famous.
A lot of time has passed.
A lot of time has passed.
After the suicide of my aunt, I decoupaged several of her unfinished paintings into, what? a lamentation?... a meditation on her passing; but it was partly fueled by her explicit wish for ALL 4500 of her unfinished paintings to be destroyed, which is a story in itself itself. it was fucking crazy. However, this painting also features a very old tag. And, if you're ever train hopping in Montana, and see a VINO VINO VICI, drop me a line.
You probably can't tell on your phone, but these paintings are enormous, somewhere in the 8’x10’ range.
A small series of 3 sequential paintings; If it's not abundantly obvious what's under that jar, it's death.
​
Hint: that is a jar.
​
Six Cents of Humor!
​​​
Kairos, brother of Aeon, son of Chronos; whereas Aeon is the god of "deep time" Kairos is god of the equal but opposite, "indivisible moment". No matter how fast you go, Kairos precedes you, balancing a blade sharp enough to cut the smallest grain of time.
INTERESTINGLY, the photopolymer plate for this image was accidentally exposed to a literal second's worth of light before the image was properly set.
​
Consequently, the image started disintegrating immediately. And, sitting next to the drum printer, image after image dropping into the basket, was like watching a slow motion movie of Kairos literally dissolving away from the moment of his portrait.​
​
* slightly less interesting, this description of Kairos was taken from "Deep Time" by Zeilinski, and I can't corroborate it elsewhere. so take it with a grain of time.
​
​​
​
​
PART II
A lot of time has passed.
I wake up to some version of this every morning, accompanied by varying degree of light, anxiety, and beauty. It feels like living in in a mark rothko painting. I feel the same way whenever I walk past walls of painted over grafitti... but in their resplendent laziness, the landlord used a slightly different shade of... well, it's usually grey.
This image exists in literal stark contrast to my promise to reclaim my life.
In November, I had an experience which was technically ‘dream'. In this case, saying 'dream' feels a bit trivializing-- like referring to my soul companion as my dog.
​
Anyways, in the dream, I met a group of people who are real in the waking realm.
and I'm supposed to
find them; They are part of a collective known as
VICTOR’S GROUP.
​
I also promised to show my work outside of when I’m asleeps.
​
So here we are.
​
(Dream), I was walking down a street, when I was confronted by others for having forgotten my promise to show art. and, by extension, believe in art's ability to change the world. They demanded for me to immediately invent an exhibition for their show; so I gathered various plastic tarps drifting down the empty streets, and hung them in their infinitely sized circular museum; it felt very Project Runway, and I was happy about it. Everyone was endlessly milling through the tarps and ennnorrmous crowds of other people were droning around...
​
And some people looked up... and noticed other people looking up. And there was an overwhelming feeling that the barriers that separate us and define us are very small.
​
That was when they introduced themselves.
if I’m to be completely honest, showing my art was an established prerequisite to finding Victor’s Group again.
​
​
On February 20th, I made the above painting, which I then cut it into pieces and made into a 1 picture a day montage, on either a 6x6" or 6x8" paintboard.
It features a lot of crowds, and jet contrails, and lonely dog parks,... and the mountain I see every day.
​
WE STILL TALK ABOUT YOU EVERY DAY
I realed this is the longest I've ever gone without destroying all my art
Mostly, I'm amazed by how strongly this all feels Not-for-nothing.
​I had a day dream, that maybe this is all just for the neural network. And, all these protestations of art being a manifestation of life's love to live, is somehow critical in the neural network's transformation to a post-singularity multiverse.
duuno.
this is the longest I've ever gone without destroying all my art.
Like this guy. This guy for sure would've been a gonner in times past.
People waiting in lines is the new happening. crowds standing in crowds, waiting to become other crowds.
Life being what it is... I've committed to painting the mountain outside my doorstep, every day. 6x6, by memory; there are any number of antennas that I typically omit, and honestly, Antannas and their omission is symbolic of the larger mountain I'm on.
​
​
​
​
