One of the things i love about being an artist is the way I see things. This is especially apparent shortly after a good solid painting session, or a gallery visit, or a good conversation about such things. I am not an observant person; I always wonder how missing persons ads are able to state : "Last Seen Wearing a Red Sweater, blue jeans, and a backpack." You remember that? I certainly don't.
But I notice these things and I find them beautiful.
the spiderweb I observe every time I walk past it (about sixteen times a week) and the way that it changes.
the way that the horizontal shirt-stripes fold around the body of the tall narrow man.
the smoke from the abandoned cigarette wasting away in the wet grass scudding across the blades and contrasting with the dark line of evergreens at the other end of the soccer field.
the drippings of acrylic paint and water when laying down paint that will cover it up.
when you lay down on on the grassy roof over the tunnel of the road, leaning your neck out over the edge, and feel the rush of air in your face created by semi-trucks in the middle of the night.
the unfinished edges of green silky moss on skinny fir trees.
a black squirrel on the patio, poking through the wet rotting leaves.
the dark imprints, dirty silhouettes, left by those rotted leaves on the sidewalk when they're washed away.
the way that my glasses make city lights twinkle
the way that the red lights up the underbelly of the bridge and the difference between that glow and the vibrant blue in the sky.
