Skip to main content

Its Quiet

I recently read something about how we are physically made up of zillions of different types of live critters and together they form our bodies. This made me think about the independence of each organism that forms me/us. If we were to isolate one of these critters what would be its identity? What does it live for? Does it know that it serves a "higher" purpose? Maybe it does because our bodies are amazing. I wonder if moments in time, isolated as it is, mirror these critters in concept. A morning moment standing in a quiet neighborhood must serve such a "higher" purpose for our lives. I guess they form a life just as a body is a form and I wonder if a life is serving yet another higher purpose, and is there an end to this hierarchy? Is it infinite? ?????


Popular posts from this blog


I am thinking of a general sense on how I perceive the subjects in my paintings. I can only put a stream of experiences to describe the image: the song by Frank Sinatra, a barely remembered poem about Chicago..something about big shoulders, pop culture thoughts like prohibition and gansters, great pizza, baseball, lots of guys that look like me (baseball cap, bearded, slight beer belly) Guinness, el trains, bridges, biting cold etc.. Does this make sense?


In Victor Hugo's Les Miserables there is a chapter where he paints a picture of friends in the throws of joyous doings. Much laughter, drinking, and enjoyment of each other's company makes one's spirit giddy. I thought of that chapter while on a winter trip to South Carolina's Kiawah Island. In this painting I depict my friends Harumi and Christian spontaneously riding found kids bikes. Christian is obviously too big for this ride, while Harumi seemed quite comfortable and serene. I hope this painting is seen in person as there is much to the texture that my poor photo taking does not capture.

The Room

I have a secret envy for those that have lived in the same house through to adulthood. It must be nice to be so secure about what home is. I have been contemplating putting wheels on practically every thing I own. Maybe I'll buy an old Uhaul truck and live in that. I have been carrying the same books around for eleven or twelve years now. I guess in a way "home" for me is everywhere and anywhere these books are next to me.