Disturbing how long it has been since I was here. Maybe I have have finally moved on from the spectre of death that was my companion for the last few years. Perhaps I am ready to return to the joy of living and experiencing again. Music awakened from its 20+ year slumber (a positive thing) but Photography is mostly by cell phone for social media. Painting is outsourced. Work is all consuming...

This is all wrong.

Art needs to flow again and for the right reasons. Not for sales or ego, but because I NEED IT to be out of me. To flow because I want it to, not because I am required to. To find a small corner of self produced joy and happiness. To rid the demons of doubt and contempt. To simply create without fear or judgement.

I am relieved to be done with this zombie existence.

It is good to be free...

This one hurts a bit

Haleakala for Andy. I was fortunate enough to see this stunning vista for about 3 minutes before the cloud cover said otherwise. Roots is yet another attempt to wrap my brain around what constitutes art photography. I am still unclear as to the definition but I fear that I already know the answer but am too dense to know. This brings us to the bottom 2 pictures.

These will forever hold great spiritual significance in my life. As we traveled down the road to Hana in Maui, the one thing that was foremost in my heart was to see the grave site of Charles Lindbergh. As most of you know, my father recently passed away this past year. He was my idol and the main influence in my life and of my photography. Also an avid stamp collector and aviation aficionado, Lucky Lindy was one of his favorites. By visiting the grave of one of his idols, I felt that I could possibly gain some sense of life and try to understand the eternal impact of my father's influence upon mine. It all came clear in a very personal and emotional way. To see this in person was one of the great spiritual events of my life. I felt that I gained some slight understanding of this life we have and the enormous responsibility and opportunity we all have been given. The many opportunities that we have to make a difference in the lives of others, the challenge to be the best you can every day, to rise to the challenges that life presents, to be there for your family and friends, to be the change you would like to see in the world. I sit here with tears flowing down my face remembering my hero and hoping one day to truly make him proud of his son and I am honored to have had him as my Father.

Selah,

R

Confused

So, it has been a while.... How are you ? No, I haven't forgotten you, I've been busy. But I am here for now so lets move on, shall we ?

OK, I am in Maui currently. Imagine a good looking West Virginia with surf and perfect weather. Glad you are here. There are literally hundreds of cars that have been abandoned throughout the island. They have been somewhat scrapped for parts, rolled over, and invariably, burnt and left for dead. Well, they ARE dead at this point. Problem is, no one wants to bury them. So they sit and rust and wait for the ravages of time to do what is needed. For an island FULL of old hippies, you would think it would be a lot cleaner. Too busy making money, "dropping out" of society, and complaining about the Government to give a shit, I suppose.

Top is looking out from th Iao Valley. Valley of Kings and battles and fat tourists that can't make it up 133 steps to the viewing area without complaining. Great view, good for a quick stop before going somewhere else.

So confused about a lot of things right now. People, Art, and the Truth all vexing me. I think I might know what the problem is. I could possibly have the answer already and I am too afraid to acknowledge it. Maybe my Mother was right. Enjoy everything you can for as long as you can because when it's over, that's IT. No more.

I just can't seem to disconnect.

ever forward

The white squirrel. According to the things I know about nature (both things are wrong, btw) this creature should have been eaten or dead before it achieved such a size. There are many fearsome predators in the country and there is no sympathy for a unique representation as such. And yet it lives, defying feral cats, loose dogs, raptors, and automobiles. A survivor of the first degree, I say. I can now say that I have seen four different colors of squirrel. I am still in hope for purple. Or green. Pink would be cool. Maybe a calico configuration would take care of my squirrel coloring hopes and signal the end of my pseudo quest.

My cat sucks as a model. Just insanely curious about anyone paying attention to her. You pretty much get one chance and if that is missed, go on with your day. The end result is either she showers you with affection and/or bites the hell out of you to let you know that she loves you or has grown tired of you. But she will never be considered dull.

I have become interested in how artists react to people in regards to their art. The squirrel represents someone like Harper Lee. Bright, unique, undoubtedly gifted, but the attention given to them is not really the kind that they want. Though accepted and desired, they will run away at the slightest hint of danger, be it boredom, fear of death, fear of rejection, or somewhere in between. The cat represents the diva in all of us, craving attention until it grows tired of you. Sometimes acting out, but ALWAYS needing to be attended to. The "Worship me and all my awesomeness !" attitude that has somehow permeated all of our lives, either through our own actions or externally from others that subscribe to that feeling. Is one attitude necessarily better than the other, or should there be a happy medium somewhere ?

I have straddled the fence between these extremes for so long that I will need a cup soon.

Humility and graciousness or "Look at MEEEEEE you bastards !"

Either side is a winner. It must be in how you would like to be remembered.

Mas

The last one is ultimately the direction in which I think I will go, but it is early yet in the discovery phase, and thusly, we will ALL have to wait. Basically, a B&W with spray and textured whilst wet. Not the greatest photo but I was in a bit of a rush. I was hit with a real art school '80s vibe while painting. I can't say if that was good or bad. I'll blame listening to Depeche Mode.

Still am bewildered about what is going on with life in general. I can't tell if I am an active participant or simply sleepwalking through the chaos that swirls about my day. It has been said that all the employees at my job suffer from Stockholm Syndrome and that there has to be something better somewhere else. People have left, but most have returned for better or worse. I was told this past week that I was "old" and that things will get better when the young guys get up to speed. Newsflash....the old guy is keeping this ship upright. I don't see the young guys sticking it out to the end. I see a lot of "80%ers," people that do 80% of the job and stop, feeling that they are done. This is causing no end to my stress and chagrin. I have to be better than that. I have to complete my assignments. If I have to complete yours as well, I might as well do it all.

Was Boxer a fool ? Or simply a company horse ?

I'll find out when the knacker wagon comes for me.

Be unafraid of creation. It could possibly be the only thing keeping you sane.

somewhere new

These are 2 paintings that I finished today. The rest are on my facebook page (Roy Schneider, icon is an owl being sprayed w/a hose if you are interested). If you are wondering what in hell I am doing, I will explain. This is the second part of my journey to the end of my artistic creativity. You see, I have an endpoint in my head, but I cannot get there by conventional, stereotyped artistic expression. The current state of art in DC is simply too stifling, too confined to express what I need to. So as always, I'll do it my damn self and to hell with all of the so called experts and judges and conventional thinking. Some may find it interesting/weird/bizarre/perfectly normal for me to have the LAST work I will ever do in my head and everything else is means to that end. One medium simply cannot explain who I am. The last piece I will ever do will. It may be done this week or in 20 years, I don't know. But I WILL know when it is done.

And so will you.

Selah

R

Why, or why not ?

This is the question that I have been torturing myself with for the last several months. Why must I continue to capture images that I like when it seems that it is simply an exercise in frustration and a bit of a money pit. Is it for the artistic value ? Mostly. Sometimes it goes hand in hand with what we are doing in our artist's lives, creating and recording events and moments. Sometimes it is just the things I find odd or out of place, The above sofa, for instance. Or the gentleman reading a magazine by a busy street. Many times, I have no idea what I want to record. This is the best time as the opportunity is hiding and I hope to find it. The thrill of the hunt, if you will allow. But why do I go on when it seems that the rewards are virtually nil ?

I have to do it.

I cannot explain it but it is a necessary part of my life to express myself through a medium and I have to do it. Not for the fame (hahaha !) or monetary rewards (rotflmfao !!!) or the ego stroking from viewers (viewers, right ). Whatever is lurking in my subconscious must be expressed through an artistic release valve. I don't know why, but I DO know that I am afraid to NOT do it. Before, it was music. Now it is photography. I haven't a clue as to what is next, but it is coming. It could be graffiti, interpretive dance, music (again), painting, fiction writing, cooking.....who knows. It simply must be.

It has been said that 90% of success is simply showing up.

Here I am.

With a solid B+

Selah

R