On January 6 I am scheduled to receive a bi-ventricular pacing device, or a “pacemaker,” to coordinate contractions of the right and left ventricles of my heart.
Unfortunately, my heart has continued to enlarge and deteriorate in response to the infection I contracted last May, and the left ventricle is contracting late. This is making the heart work harder and less efficiently, which will only increase “remodeling” over time as the heart continues to enlarge and weaken. There is hope that correcting the heart’s electrical system, and adjusting my medications, may stop and even partially reverse these changes. It doesn’t always work, but I am hopeful.
I am in good health otherwise and in good spirits.
Working on art helps me manage the difficult feelings that come from this unwelcome and unexpected development.
A fellow artist told me me a few days ago that “your designs are not artificial, they are emanating straight from your subconscious.”
That’s more true now than ever. It’s what I felt when I was coming out of treatment in the summer of 2019, now as then just letting things emerge without much editing or questioning.
So, what is my art?
Since I am making it now, it is by definition contemporary. It is usually abstract, often geometrical and sometimes in the form of collage made with photos or original designs on paper or mat. It’s “modern”.
It’s sometimes made with acrylic markers and paints, sprayed or brushed.
But above all else it better be unique. I am not intentionally copying anyone else. It’s sometimes flattering when someone says, “this reminds me of (name of famous artist).”
But it’s always more flattering when they say, “I have never seen anything quite like this before.”
It’s easier to sell the first kind, a piece that seems more familiar to the buyer. The second kind of piece needs a buyer who is both moved by a work but also courageous enough to say they want it, even if they don’t have the words to say what it “is”.
Collectors are in the second category. I treasure these special people with courage to buy new art and put it in their home. They are often the first to recognize something special that others are too afraid to purchase or display.
My Challenging, Contemporary Art
December’s work included two challenging pieces, and one fun piece in my “Fragments” series.
El Fuego (The Fire) started out as a mat template for another work I did in November. The mat board was rough, cut, torn, hardly pretty. But it had some power in it, especially when I set it over a rectangular background visible through the swirling cuts.
You see everything here, every imperfection and splatter. It’s the opposite of digital, computer-driven art. It’s made by hand, with emotional engagement and release.
Is the fire destructive, or a source of power and energy? Both? What is being consumed, what is being born?
A Walk in the Park with a Cello is even more challenging, the most abstract piece I have done. Its varied surfaces have gone through many transformations, colors altered through ripping off layers of material, adding more, the body of the instrument reflected in curves.
It is by no means a representation of a cello (which has far fewer strings than the symbolic ones cutting across the picture). It’s a feeling, an evocation of an experience.
Fragments 2 is a small work made for contemplation if you have the time; or a splash of color to brighten your nook or mood. It’s fun.
Happy New Year!
El Fuego
30” x 40” collage and acrylic on wood panel, 2025
A Walk in the Park with a Cello
24” x 24” acrylic and collage on wood panel, 2025
