Getting the image below in a text from a friend recently reminded me of the emotions around this painting which I considered a real success at the time I did it in 2018, and I think it has aged well. I hadn’t completed a painting I like this much in almost 2 decades. It felt like a beginning, at the time.
Talking about art a good bit lately may be why I’ve felt reflective, maybe a little nostalgic. From thinking about why I started making art (well, drawings) as a kid and then into college, to how the body of work that is occupying me now both goes back to grad school at the end of the ’90s and is rooted in the circumstances for starting to make Artwork again in 2018 (so I’ve revamped and expanded on what was initially the bio on this site to make these 2 essays about these distinct time periods).
Anyway, all the talking and writing has me in word mode, and rethinking my thinking about what I’m doing over here pushing around wet, colored plastic suspensions onto canvas with a hairy stick, so I’ve recorded some new thoughts about my practice as well.
Painting After Art is Dead 