A Sense of Color

Not too many days fly by that I don't sense a new color. I marvel that I can do this. It may be a Blue-green-yellow or perchance a reddish orange with some blue in it. These new colors are so wonderful. Sometimes they prompt me to purchase a new tube and to try to imitate them. I am not always so eager to implement them into my palette as that though. Sometimes the joy that a new color brings me is of such intensity I cannot find the true inner energy to do anything more than just marvel upon it. I am remembering that within the texts of Homer there is not one mention of the color of the Mediterranean sea. Not one mention of the color we call Blue. I might be privy to colors yet unknown. There may be colors, within my palette that are not known by others, or at least a small percentage, at least today. In art school, I discovered entire sets of new grays, in their color. In practical application, later, in pleinaire I discovered more about the colors I thought I knew.
I could produce familiar colors in new ways, I had discovered new routes to colors, quick and efficient.

Fridays

Today is Friday. Tomorrow is Saturday, but will feel like Friday, and Sunday will feel like Saturday, and might even feel like Friday. This is what it feels like, to me, to be disabled. One day feels like any other day, except maybe that my fiance is home all day on the weekends. I have not painted for almost a month now, and look forward to my next outing there. Last Sunday we took a picnic to a lovely park near our home and I saw several paintings and plan to return this Sunday and carry my portable palette with me and capture the beauty there. Perchance I will continue to paint on Sundays... Perhaps Sundays will feel like a particular day and I will once again regain a sense of time for ALL the days of the week. Right now, Tuesdays and Thursdays feel like Tuesdays and Thursdays, because of the NA meetings I have begun to attend on those days. Although, sometimes Tuesdays feel like Thursdays but Thursdays never feel like Tuesdays, because my home group meets on Thursdays.

I am an Artist... Today, but not always.

I have written many entries regarding the Ideal and my life as an artist, and also have touched upon the suffering that an artist HAS to endure. I want to tell you about a young man, who I met while in attendance at WVU, while I was studying to be an oil painter & watercolorist. I met him through another artist, whose name was Jim. This artist, a fellow student, was named Pat McGuane. Now.. I was in the beginnings of a life centered around my next bag or pot, my next buzz... Whatever that required. And many of the people I knew then and associated with also were toying with substance abuse. I would say, that whatever difficulties that face young artists in our times, the fervor of that inner impulse to create, cannot be quenched completely by the drowning of Ideal. I don't know what difficulties faced Pat, I do not know what trek he has trod. I do know, that the inner fire of the artist can overcome ANY obstacle, if we are ever to acknowledge the potential of strength and presence of IDEAL in our life. So I can say that my practice of art, has at the very least been consistent over the years. When I made the decision to quit utilizing mind altering substances, my life as an artist also changed. But that change was not overnight, nay, it took six and a half months for the correlation of mind/object/hand to reach a degree of clarity where the ART was in no jeopardy whatsoever of being clouded by my choice to cloud the correlation. At a very young age in my art background, I knew that clouding the correlation would eventually mean that my interpretation of Ideal would not be as clearly understood by others as it could have been. Since I have been clear-minded I have done hundreds of portraits and landscapes and have created sculpture and have created gardenscapes which have brought me personal tranquility.
I know that my friendship with other artists has been for me a catalyst for my continuing to understand the place that IDEAL has in my life, as an artist. My friendship with Ken Halstead is one of understanding that Ideal is obtainable. My friendship with Pat McGuane is one of understanding that being an artist is a life-long journey toward IDEAL. I understand the difference.