Wednesday, August 28, 2013

The Real Diaries

The longer I live and the more I write, I realize that the true product of my existence is the diary. The Real Diary, the one I have written since 1969, now amounting to 155 notebooks. And so I have begun a Tumblr which addresses this fact.

I am not sure how much of all the actual entries I will post. The first five years might not make it as I am such a lousy writer as a teen. But I did draw some fun teenage concerns - clothes, drugs, music and boys - they are described both visually and literally, so I may just scan and upload images.

Something interesting, something heavy is the essential material quality of them all. We can stuff life into something teeny-tiny if we manifest digitally. These notebooks do not operate in that way. They bear the stains of the times.

Today I posted the above image, Diary No. 108, written between August and November in 2001. The smoke was photographed from across a river. I pasted just the edge of the horror.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Bruce Guenther on KBOO

Listen to the interview here.

The Portland Art Museum is currently presenting a snug and smart exhibition by Sherrie Levine. I loved this show and look forward to talking to curator Bruce Guenther about it. He will be my guest on Art Focus this coming Tuesday, the 27th.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

The Vessel

The Torso No. 10

I could do an entire series called The Vessel. Admire the curves. Love the surface and project the inside as suits the moment. Fill her up. Empty at will. Start all over again.

The Torso No. 2

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Hickory Mertsching on KBOO

Listen to the interview here.

A year ago I wrote about Hickory Mertsching when he had a show at the Gallery @ The Jupiter. Now he has an exhibition at Beam and Anchor, a design space on Interstate. He will be my guest on Art Focus this coming Tuesday.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Time Based Art

A friend observed that while as a rule he tended to move forward to what was in front of him, I was more circular, reflective and in process of the past. Not a moral judgment, he says. I should say not. The past is not even past, I am more convinced than ever. I need room to reflect and savor what happened.

Perhaps this is rooted in a childhood in the country. I lived on a dirt road which met another dirt road. You come across someone or something on a dirt road, it matters. It could be monumental, processed over days and night, in your imagination, whether it is a toad, a snake, a waterfall, a boy.

In New York I would always say: “Everything matters here.” But maybe the opposite was true.

And all throughout my childhood, I learned about art. Art was and is experiential, a part of the reflective process and way of life. Art is not an object. Great art you can experience time and time again with new responses and information coming your way.  I used to think that museums in great cities provided the ultimate lesson in what art provides, but I've changed my mind on that. In my case, I could get it out of a book or a magazine out in the middle of nowhere and did for years.

So this idea of visitation and re-visitation showed me what a time-based experience all great visual art (among other things) is. There is no finite to a great work of art, no static existence. In fact if you know it well enough, the exploration continues within your mind. And it will change, perform and evolve as you do, throughout a lifetime.