We Must Create: And Say It Again To Each Other Again
There are still tears in my eyes—tears of laughter. I just got off the phone with one of my Creative Fellows, a filmmaker from Los Angeles. His wife had already given him the *Greatest Advice of All Time, but he was calling his creative friends to vent anyway. Sometimes we need each other, us creatives. We need to say the same thing five thousand four hundred and fifty-nine times—to know it well enough for it to become something else. The dream is that it will expand—it will become the dream currently shadowed by fears, doubts, or stresses of whatever variety. I vented some, too.
Brother. We talked like brothers—fought over …
In the Woods: Collaborating With Dirt and Snow. It’s time.
I'm in the woods—and the kitchen. Hello from the table where I sit with a view of the Pike Forest. I can almost see the exact spot where two of my canvases are buried in the snow and ice.
One thing led to another. Months ago, I was working on the ground, feeling the shapes of the earth beneath me and the canvas, outlining them with a soft pastel—until the season changed. It snowed. I got the urge to bury the paintings. They'd already been outside for months. For whatever reason—not knowing what to do, curiosity, attempted surrender, a deep desire for change, grief—I had decided to let things (wind, rain, dirt, fallen branches) influence my work …