Sunday, May 3, 2009

The one I don't want to write about






































I've been thinking a lot about things recently. About the randomness of life and death, about art, about artists and how they are influenced, about people being too much like sheep, about death, about therapy, about mainstream news media, about happiness and being set free, but mostly about death. Let me state for the record that, although this might come out sounding REALLY DEPRESSING (and somewhat suicidal), I have no intention of leaving through the express lane if you get my drift. I have just been inundated with images of death recently and it is bothering the hell out of me, so I choose this method of relieving some of my mental burden.

Let me get this off my chest...... I can't listen to Pink Floyd anymore because it reminds me of my friend Rob, who was killed by a man he was trying to help out of a jam. Early Van Halen and Deep Purple is out too, along with motocross, BMX, and 65 Chevelles because it reminds me of my childhood friend Steve who was killed by some assholes in Richmond. I can't read Hunter S Thompson and Hemingway anymore because I start thinking about guns and Bud Dwyer. Which SUCKS because I love(d) both authors immensely. My boss and co-workers joke about suicide constantly. My wife keeeps reading books written about death and wanting to talk about them. My brother in law keeps recommending them and sends things like this:
http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html
Good read, but then wiki this guy and you can plainly see WHY this is depressing me. I hear trains and think of the several people I knew and my wife knew that were killed by them. Just thinking about Richmond makes me depressed, with all of the friends I knew there that have passed or simply disappeared (if anyone knows the whereabouts of John C Linden PLEASE let me know). Farmers committing suicide en masse (over 1500 in India this year so far) because they know their crops won't come in this year and they owe $800 to the bank with NO CHANCE of being able to pay.


I can't even talk about family.


I can't even watch the news anymore because it just pisses me off to no end. Fear mongering sons of bitches. Thanks a lot. I thought we were past that. Living in DC, it is very difficult NOT to be a news junkie (I am/was/recovering now) so it just chaps my ass to see/hear this ridiculous slant on information that is designed to scare the shit out of everyone. I AM TIRED OF IT, PLEASE STOP !!! I watch for the traffic and weather and then its off to ESPN for the highlights. I can't wake up to seeing the sheep being led to the slaughter very much longer. It reminds me of the Far Side comic that has the dog leaning out the car window, telling his dog buddy all happy,"I'm going to get tutored !" My friend Lex tells me that I remind him of the horse in "Animal Farm," that I am going to work until I drop and get sent to the knackers to be turned into food and glue with no thanks or appreciation whatsoever. Thanks a lot.

Is pain and/or mental illness the only good artistic inspiration ?

"....Holy Shit, Where's the Tylenol ?" - Clark W. Griswold

I am getting too depressing. On to livelier topics. That is one disgusting toilet. I threatened the owner (who shall remain anonymous although YOU KNOW YOUR SHAME) that I would make a large print and hang it at a show. I think I will start with this blog. It's the curves that do it for me. The other picture almost got me kicked out of SFMOMA. Stupid random rules. You can take pictures here, but not here or over there, but there is OK, but not those in the corner.....NO FLASH,and the DUMBASS is implied. I like the juxtaposition of old and new in this photo as well as the quietly aggressive expression of youth balanced with the quiet resignation of the drawing of the old man.

Sad to say (yes, a little more depression) that my wife and I have resigned from the Workhouse for reasons I can't/won't get into here. I can say that I truly enjoyed meeting some fantastic artists and some really interesting people there. Suffice it to say, if it was just about the art, we would still be members (at least one of us). There are other options for us. The summer season is here and the art show circuit is rife with possibility. There are many opportunities for both of us outside of the Workhouse and we intend to take advantage of as many as we can. I'll keep you posted as to the wheres and whens.

Mother Theresa once said, or it has been attributed to her, something like,"I know God would not give me anything I could not handle, I sometimes wish He wouldn't trust me so much."

Good inspiration is not just pain or a result of madness. It is also in the form of a beautiful sunrise, or light hitting an object just so. It can come in the form of a child's smile, the sound of a stream in the quiet woods, or the touch of a loved one. Maybe it can come from the memories of those friends and family members that have passed. That we that remain can all continue on our respective paths, drawing strength from those memories, honoring those that we cherished with our thoughts, words, and deeds.

I will continue. I will remain. I will be strong.

Love
Purpose
Peace

4 comments:

kirsten schneider said...

you aren't the horse in animal farm. you don't know how much you are appreciated.

missknowitall said...

Hey Roy - we met briefly a week or so ago in "The Society" (and I mean that in the most upper-crusty tone) studios and I took your card. Finally got to your blog today and was disappointed for purely selfish reasons to know I probably won't get to know you a bit better - but I wish you and your wife the best as you take the next steps in your journey. As I am just beginning to "put myself out there" for public consumption of my creative work, I try to keep in mind some encouraging works an artist friend of mine offered to me about work:

Indulge ideas
Keep making
Be fearless
Question everything
Work fast
Think slow
Use what you know
Learn what you don’t
Be badass
Do it again…

Be well, Donna H

Celtic Fire Photography said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Celtic Fire Photography said...

Roy,
I am incredibly moved by what you write here, living in the fan in Richmond nearly drove me crazy as well... I have never been to a place since so filled with violence and despair...
I believe the place is haunted...and I suppose that emotion is rather juvenile, however it is honestly how I feel, there were times I could almost see Poe walking at night, I often tried to follow in his footsteps but was turned back by the same dark corners I am sure he discovered long before me before me...honestly I love and hate the place to this day...it leaves an unforgettable mark on whoever stumbles upon it's shadowy dead end streets.
As far as inspiration goes...in recent days I have found that in you...or perhaps some similarities we share...
We both work in a madhouse,
We both seek the brighter side of life,
We have families we love and miss everyday... and we want to find the beauty in the world through our glass, or with a brush, or some sort of medium that can represent our voice in this world in this life...a much needed breath, in a lifetime measured in minutes, discovered in frames per seconds and F stops. That sweet release of creation that only art can provide, Something I know you understand… I see it in you everyday, and everyday I watch the mundane attempt to smother you, but your force of will and the fiber of your character brushes it off easily...and I admire that. I respect that. and I inspires me to stop shuffling my feet, to start walking ...to break into a run, to find my place, in the world were I too can stave off the wolves of misery these depressing fear mongering media Mongols, with they're shackles, enslaving the populous with misery and hopelessness only interrupted by commercials telling me I am weak, I am fat, my sex life could be better, or that every little thing is a conspiracy, that money is the only god I will ever need.

This whole world is blind...the only real truth is art,

And our voice,
And our eyes and hands,
And our children,

Children who watch us ignore all this bullshit as they grow up around us,
Watching us find hope in all this mess... and with our hands and hearts craft love and beauty out of darkness.

And for what you have written…thank you for sharing… it’s the first time in a long time that I haven’t felt alone in my head.

The following is my daily mantra…or something of that nature.

Reach to others.
Elevate the unseen.
Dwell inside your heart.
Let your soul guide you.
Make a difference.
Believe


Peace
Danny Davidson