White on White

White on White
 MM-O/C 36x48” (91.44 x 121.92 cm)

After an almost two year absence from painting, I finally held a paint brush in my hand, inhaled the scent of oil paint and Liquin as if they were rare perfumes. It has taken almost this long to also solve a technical issue with which I was faced trying to emulate the series “Typography Graveyard,” the Berkeley telephone poles with their remnants of torn paper fliers.

In a 2009 post ,“A discovery turns into an artistic vision,” there are samples of art works, were collage material and painting are combined in order to duplicate the visual experiences. Now I wanted to take the art to the next level, beyond “Howl” or “Beauty Re-defined,” which are both flat, absent of any light or shadow play and recreate the micro-structure on a larger scale, including adding shapes to the surface. “White on White” is the result of that quest.

Thank you for your visit

and comment . . .

Egmont

Life’s fragility

Yesterday I lit a candle to mark the fourth birthday in my second life, commemorating the day I was to have passed only to cheat death, when doctors performed a triple-by-pass open-heart surgery. The residual consequences have been mixed and though I am grateful to be alive, the side effects of the surgery have become an almost daily battle. Especially the bouts with depression have become more numerous these last one and half years, lasting longer and becoming more sever, that I have even begun to question if the quality of life gained has been worth this daily struggle.

Following the months after the surgery I was very optimistic, looking forward to a better life. Knowing I had better chance, more then most men, to possible live beyond the national average. I would like to regain that optimism, making whatever few years I do have left seem like a lifetime. As the candle celebrating the birthday slowly burned, its light flickered now and then, to unseen currents, when a little hot wax dribbled down the tapered shaft, marking the beginning of my forth year, which was now more important than ever before.

As I reflected, I could not help but also encompass the events that are unfolding by the hour ever since an earthquake had struck the city of Port au Prince, Haiti. It is events like these that we are reminded how fragile life is; unfortunately it takes a disaster or a personal crisis for most of us to understand this.

The arrival of winter as autumn passes

Wildcat Canyon Road, Berkeley California - December 27, 2005, #22281

In many ways this series of photographs reflect life’s fragility. They were taken one week after my collapse, which was later determined to have been a heart attack, and two weeks prior to the open-heart surgery. To this day they are some of the most personal and best work I have produced in the last four decades. Not only do they represent a pivotal moment in my then fifty-six years, they also reflect life’s last will and testament that was voided on January 16, 2006. And so whenever I think about the surgery or the month of December or the month of January, the mind recalls those several days in which I visited a small stretch of earth with tripod and camera in hand, searching.

If you were to ask if I knew what it was that was being sought those last days in December of 2005, the answer would have always been met with a blank gaze, then followed with utter silence. I just knew that regardless of the weather I was compelled, no driven if you would, to capture an image. Only months later did I come to understand that the image was the message and that it was meant for me. It was nature letting me know that my life was like the many leaves that had fallen and now represented my very existence that was about to expire. Yet I am here, facing doubt and an uncertainty, while still trying to make sense of it all.

Though I considered January 16 to be my second birthday and not just an anniversary, I did nothing more than light a candle, watching its bright amber flame slowly burn, while the candles scent began to settle all around the room. Though birthdays are meant to be celebratory, I did not wish it so, besides no one remembered and I did not say a word. It just seemed that some birthdays are best spent with ones self.

A last hurrah

Wildcat Canyon Road, Berkeley California -December 28, 2005, #22294

The inevitable hope

Wildcat Canyon Road, Berkeley California -December 29, 2005, #22326

December’s blanket

Wildcat Canyon Road, Berkeley California -December 30, 2005, #22349

Rain-washing away the sins of the day

Wildcat Canyon Road, Berkeley California -December 30, 2005, #22351

Technical Notes:

Camera: Sony DSC-V1, 5MB, Full Frame

Computer: Macintosh G4

Post work: Photoshop v8 (CS-I)

Post work notes:

Levels, Curves were all individually set.

Channel Mixer for all images at R+40/G+50/B+20/Constant-5
Afterwards converted to Duo-tone for secondary colour

Gaussian Blur was applied to all images

A narrative with ones self

It seems as we approach the end of the year, we become more reflective and nostalgic. Having watched the leaves alter their shade of colour the passed several weeks, I sit at the kitchen table looking out through the open door and observe a single leaf depart from a twig upon the arrival of a sudden gust of wind. The leaf tumbles to the unseen currents of air in a dance, before reaching the ground, joining others already there. This sudden gust of wind that subsided just as fast as it came, also set into motion an orchestrated eruption of harmony when it touched upon the wind chimes, filling the empty spaces with a choral of song.

 

The arrival of winter as autumn passes

Grizzly Peak, Berkeley, California

Digital duo-tone photograph, December 27, 2005

In another six days we officially enter autumn. The pumpkins have already arrived at the markets and since last month stores have been displaying their Halloween merchandize. In the meantime California is in the midst of an Indian Summer with temperatures hovering above the nineties. Though this is my favorite time of year, I can do without the heat and so can the garden.

As the days become shorter, my thoughts resume their journey back to  these last six years, continuing a conversation with myself that started mid-July. A narrative dissecting the memory entrenched in the recesses of translucent layers that are forever shifting, analyzing an unknown future filled with imperfection of an impassioned hope.

I decided to rework the image ‘The arrival of winter as autumn passes’ to compliment the ‘Ancient One’. Though the photograph is part of a larger series, it is one I seem to identify with most. It keeps resurfacing whenever I think about the end of autumn, the beginning of December, or the end of the year. The image has become a link to my past and what would have been the last few days of my life.

Both photographs reflect metaphorically who I was or what I have physically become. The spirit is still another matter, as it has remained cloistered in silence like an unborn, left seeking a path to the self.

The Ancient One

Most of July and all of August have been weeks spent reflecting and being in a state of melancholy, with little sleep between the passing of one day and the arrival of another. As if storm clouds linger close by, ready to erupt at any moment into a torrent of challenges to blind my sense of direction. In the meantime September lies before me as an unknown terrain yet to be explored or its chapter written and while there are no guarantees; each day to which I rise, is a gift not to be spoiled and this is especially true, because the last six years have been a challenge.

After a two-month hospital stay in the spring of 2003, which required a subsequent four and a half year recovery, stage three cancer was discovered and appropriately dealt with. This was followed eighteen months later by a heart attack and thirty days afterwards was compounded by an unscheduled open-heart triple by-pass surgery in January 2006. Yet after all this, I remain standing, unsure if I would be able to face another major challenge.

Finding solace with the Ancient One

Grizzly Peak, Berkeley, California
Digital duo-tone photograph, December 7, 2007

No longer as resilient or defiant as before, I come to identify with the old tree I christened the ‘Ancient One’ when I first came upon it almost two years ago. At that time I felt an internal urge to return to an area with which I had identified during the period when I had my heart attack and the open-heart surgery. It was in those thirty days when a three-day period produced some of my most personal work. These images of fallen twigs, leaves and other fragments of nature gathering upon the ground under a soft rain, returning to earth in the cycle of ‘dust to dust’, were foreshadowing my own destiny. Had I not intervened two days prior of my scheduled death, much would have been left unfinished and unsaid. To this day I feel closest to these images then all my other photographs combined.

Since the day of my open-heart surgery when I cheated my demise unknowingly, it feels like Death is seeking revenge. Playing shenanigans with my mind and emotions in a game I know it will eventually win. But for now this tug of war continues indefinitely and like the ‘Ancient One’, I shall stand strong, despite feeling hollow at times. Though today I am a former self of the past, whose body now is scared and beginning to shows its age, I shall rise each day, contemplating upon creativity, and in doing so create art by which I shall be resurrecting my identity.

Postscript: When the time is right, I will share with you the images in which the heart and soul became one with the mind.