There is a story of a zen monk who would get drunk on rice wine then dip his long hair into a bowl of ink and swing it around spontaneously onto a large piece of rice paper. Looking at the paper after, similar to a rorschach/ink blot test, an image would appear in his eyes from the abstract stain. With a few decisive marks he would then complete the piece, making the object visual to others. 

       This is essentially the method with how these 'Life Drawings' are made. Stating the obvious, I may not dip my hair in ink, but the process' essence in beginning with spontaneity and finishing with control is the similarity. The monk's method is completed in these two steps but once,  where in my drawings it's repeated numerous times until complete. And it’s those two steps which i find fascinating. I attribute the source with the beginning coming from the subconscious, and the ending with the conscious mind. 

    I begin the drawing blindly. Turning my head away from the page, sometimes closing my eyes. I’ve even began while looking someone in the eyes and talking, which is a great method because the purpose is to distract the conscious mind from any involvement. Even with eye’s closed its still easy to fall into drawing thru familiar patterns, but whats sought after is opening a door where something new and unexpected might come thru. The door into the subconscious. 

       These first marks are basically scribbles, and now looking, if I begin to see a hint of anything I draw while looking at the paper to make it clear. There are no set of rules really, so it could be as simple as completing the shape of a leg or maybe showing an entire figure. Every drawing is different. Sometimes the drawing never goes beyond just scribbles. It all depends on the preceding marks. At some point I shift back into the subconscious with looking away from the paper again and making rapid marks. As the drawing develops in this back and forth way in looking/not looking, it becomes semi blind where i look at the edge of the paper but not what's actually being drawn for example, so I can stay within the page itself. The aim is for an image to manifest on its own, which I could not preconceive consciously.  Similar to a midwife helping to deliver a baby. So the process is an intentional transitioning in and out of conscious and subconscious states, until a somewhat completed image has formed. The addition of rendering after sometimes also alters the image in unexpected ways, however it is far more conscious oriented, which would be likened to the monk making visible what he initially saw only personally, using deliberate marks creating an image for others to see as well. 

'Life Drawing #91', ink on paper, 11"x14", 2017

  'Life Drawing #90', ink on paper, 11"x14", 2017 'Life Drawing #9', ink on paper, 9"x12", 2015

       (on the right:first piece in the Life Drawing series. On left: most current piece 2 years after)

          My friend had just come back from his therapist. He had taken a portfolio of his recent works to show her, including a few pieces of mine such as the one pictured above. She (the therapist) noticed how you drew a brain he told me. 'Did I?', I thought. Looking at it again I could see what she meant, though subtle and unintentional. The response intrigued me, enough to where it would transform the drawing from a doodle into developing a large body of work from it. It happened as a doodle where I had been working on a series of collaborative projects one after the other for the past weeks while sleeping on a couch in a large artist's studio in Greenpoint Brooklyn, NY. I had never made art outside my own familiar process, and so from this situation I found myself in I woke up one day almost as an instinctual desperation to cure a feeling of homesickness, I drew on paper to experience my old self again. The drawing became a cluster of figures and I thought nothing of it until a week later when hearing the therapist's comment. 

       I've had a longtime interest in psychology and I was anticipating the possibility with finally arriving at a way to incorporate it into my creative process. It would be a few months before I would find the space to continue, and this happened after leaving NY sporadically and ending up at a friend's home in Grand Rapid's, Michigan for a month where I could decompress from the overwhelming energy/experience during the previous 4 months. 

       When not enjoying long walks into the small, quiet city of downtown Grand Rapids during beautiful summer days, I would read books on psychology in my friend's basement converted into her art studio. One of the books was 'Freedom and Destiny', by Rollo May. The book became a favorite of mine, reading it over and over. It's too difficult with beginning to explain any of it's ideas here in a short format, but my hope was to again begin bringing such influences into my art. The next drawings I made I consider failures. I found some images online and made drawings from them. They were accomplished pieces in themselves, but they failed in purpose with the direction I wanted to go with art and psychology. This was obvious to me alone i'm sure, felt in the process with making them. I dropped working from references and started again with drawing mindlessly like I had done with the initial drawing months back. 

ink on paper, 8.5"x 10", 2015 Falling from Grace, ink on paper, 8.5"x 10", 2015 , ink on paper, 8.5"x 10", 2015

(drawings from photos using photo references)

     Immediately the drawings shifted. Anyone who draws knows the difference between working from photo references and imagination. Returning to the latter, it felt as if stumbling across a forgotten well. Excited, I would drop my bucket deeper and deeper into it. I never had much interest in the Surrealist artists, but now I had. I began researching and learning all sorts of techniques with working from the subconscious mind. I discovered this was the fundamental key, that source of the well which I drew deeper and deeper from. The subconscious mind. Reading about methods such as automatism, spontaneity with creativity, dream imagery, symbol and meaning, abstract expressionism, and more became the tools for this exploration. 

'Life Drawing #18', ink on paper, 6"x8", 2015 'Life Drawing #20', ink on paper, 6"x8", 2016  

(the next pieces made after not using photo references)

      The examples continue, but the last i will mention was the events peak for myself, occurring in the first hour when Congresswoman Doris Matsui dropped by. Introducing myself I found it difficult to connect, mainly from a state of exhaustion. I struggled in conveying the meaningfulness the show had for me where it felt like a personal homecoming after having left 20 years before. Especially arriving under the circumstances from living without a home over the last 4 years, traveling to various destinations where by it’s end I ran out of money, had no identity with an expired passport and driver’s license, lost my cellphone, a victim of bank fraud, and more, throwing me overboard and washing up on shore in my hometown. The majority of the works on display were made in these various places, sometimes in airports, hotel rooms, even other countries, etc. Unable however to explain the show properly, I excused myself exiting to the sidewalk with a beer. A few minutes after, my brother showed up with his family. He noticed Matsui through the window, remarking how she had helped him in a desperate life situation years ago. It was obvious this was to become the moment where he could finally thank her in person. My brother’s story is this- He was involved in an unfortunate car accident where his leg was broken from the hip down. Over the course of the following 7 years he would undergo 13 surgeries, part of which was to keep his foot from being amputated but which he could not save ultimately. Unable to work he qualified for disability. This ran out after a year, and suddenly the challenge went beyond physical reconstruction and recovery. He applied for social security, and by the end of 3 months where the applicant is to be notified wether qualified or not, he didn’t received any response. Contacting the office himself several weeks at a time, he was always told to keep waiting. During this period his wife was released from her job after developing carpal tunnel syndrome on site. The financial struggle intensified with supporting their two children as well as the piling of hospital bills. They would lose their home in the process with going under in debt. And even nine months after first applying, the Social Security office still had no answer. He hired a lawyer, yet things still were not progressing. Our father insisted writing a letter to the local Congresswoman, Doris Matsui. Not expecting a reply, but absolutely desperate he did so. Soon after on a Friday afternoon he received a call from Matsui’s office informing him the social security office would be calling in regards to arranging a court date to settle the matter. Hanging up, the phone rang again seconds after. It was his lawyer. She asked what he had done, and if he knew how a politician suddenly became involved. My brother explained the letter and the previous phone call. The case was expedited, and the lawyer told my brother to be in court the following Monday. Living in Fresno at a close friend’s after the loss of their home, Monday morning came and his wife loaded him from a wheelchair into the passenger’s seat for a 3 hour drive to the courthouse in Sacramento. Before they could leave, the lawyer called again announcing the judge had ruled in his favor. There was no need to appear in court. On top of finally receiving his first check, more than a years worth of compensation was awarded for the SS office’s negligence. And on this night, face to face inside the gallery he thanked Matsui. I believe even the assistant that talked to my brother on the phone was there as well. This event overshadowed my inability earlier to successfully describe the show to Matsui, and yet their interaction was the very expression of the idea with the exhibition where art doesn’t end when a painting is completed, or even after put on a wall for a show, but carries onward into the lives of those who might find themselves in contact with it.

     If you missed the opening, there will be a second one this Saturday August 12th at 1810 Gallery in Sacramento, CA. For more info, email at 1810gallery@gmail.com 

 

         ‘Art is…’, is the title for an upcoming show at 1810 Gallery in Sacramento, California. The inspiration with making an art show about art came from location. Although having left twenty years ago, I was raised in Sacramento. Growing up here was challenging for a sensitive, introverted, artistic individual in an environment void of artist culture. Especially during a time prior to social media or even the internet, my only community besides the occassional artist classmate was myself. Since however, art has become part of the social landscape and I was taken back after witnessing an event earlier in the year called 'ArtStreet'. It was overwhelmingly inspirational seeing a gathering of artists using creativity and aesthetics in expressing personal ideas. The large wherehouse turned art museum was filled not just with beautiful pieces, but pieces communicating social, political, existential ideas, etc. I never imagined returning to this city and participating artistically here, but this show alone made it a no brainer. Returning to my place of origin has brought up the past. Speaking within the framework of art, my memories quickly take me to the roots of my creativity during the earliest days of childhood.  And although i've developed tremendously since, coincidentally I found myself stumbling into this initial inner world with picture making just before returning to Sacramento. This has been the real return with the rediscovery of the bliss, joy of creativity as a child, which slowly became lost from on life's course of developing into an adult. And so with the continuation in giving form to the inner world with drawing and painting, the following stories are the source of their initial formlessness. Enjoy.

           Before learning to write the alphabet I was already drawing pictures. And all the years following never without acception have I deviated from the act, regardless of who I was or my life situation. Similar to sleeping, eating, breathing, etc., it functioned almost on a purely involuntary level, and similar to those things, as a means with survival. This was far more the case growing up where I never thought about it. There was never a reason to. I simply did it, every day. So much was the case, when I first decided what do with the rest of my life at 19, pursuing a career involving drawing wasn't apparent. I mean not even for a second did I conceive any possibility. So I enrolled in college with the aim of joining the corporate world after towards climbing the ladder of financial security and success.  

Impermanence

    Along with taking the required liberal art courses of history, math, science, etc., I slipped an art class in each semester. My first class was an introduction to general art making. It was here I would be served that painful apple of knowledge, robbing me of the innocence with drawing as a mindless act, and beginning towards becoming self conscious. During a critique where the assignment was to draw a still life, the teacher bluntly told me how my drawings were not art. They were illustration, and she explained the difference. For the first time I questioned with confusion what I had been doing my entire life, as if it were wrong. There was a method, a definition, a criteria, a standard and I was unaware of it, and felt inferior to it. Having no point of reference, it was difficult to fully grasp what the teacher was describing. It hurt emotionally however, leaving a lasting impact sending me onto a path of inquiry. Officially cast out the garden of my childhood, it would be far later on this journey where I would discover the destination point was in arriving back at this beginning. And twenty years later, symbolically do I find myself unintentionally painting circles at this arrival point. Not only do I find it's meaning reflective with having come full circle, the mindset in which they are painted is that of when i first made pictures as a kid. 

watercolor on Yupo paper, 11"x14", 2017

LIFE STORIES...

           My second experience with the drug LSD happened at the beginning of summer in 2016. I’m not sure if it was a ‘bad’ trip or not. Its impact nonetheless was intense. So much so it still resonates more than half a year later. I was with my friend Ace at his apartment in the Bushwick neighborhood of Brooklyn, NY. It was late afternoon when I met him on the street after he just returned from a trip to the art store having bought a ridiculous amount of supplies. We carried it in and set up a painting station on the living room floor to paint that night. He had the idea of dropping acid, but i wasn’t sure about it myself because of the conditions. The environment was congested. There was the small interior space of the apartment that was more like an artist’s studio than a living space with paint everywhere. The apartment building was surrounded by similar buildings that stretched out for miles with no end. This was the opposite from my first experience with the drug a year before where i was in the spacious, solitude of the countryside. Ace poured a drop of the transparent liquid LSD on a paper tissue creating a stain the size of a dime. The stain’s shape resembled a cock with testicles, and this became the joke of the night. He suggested starting with half a dose, using the language of choosing to swallow the cock or the balls but not both at once. I can’t recall which I chose. We began painting on the floor of the living room and immediately all distractions were removed as I lost myself to the process of painting. We did a few collaborations and I was feeling great. Great in the way of how joyous it was to be painting with my friend. I didn’t notice any effects from the drug beyond this, but in a moment this changed. Ace suggested we relocate onto the small balcony. A tiny stretch of cement, with just enough space for the two of us to paint on, we clumsily layed out materials. Ace struggled with the mini speaker as well, getting it to work properly outside. I became self conscious suddenly, feeling exposed, but i went along with it. It was a beautiful scene, a dark summer night in NY, sitting here on a top floor balcony overlooking the backyards of all the neighbors below though know one was out. Further out the the tall buildings of Manhattan lit up with its lights. Ace put on gregorian chant music and it seemed a bit loud. It probably wasn’t, but the unusual silence of the city felt amplified from the vulnerable state with being under the influence of this drug. I didn’t want to affect Ace with the sourness I felt coming on so I just sat with it. It was a challenging situation, one where i had no experience with and my mishandling of it turned to paranoia. I thought of the neighbors calling the cops and knocking on the door? My imagination created a cinema with Ace reacting to the police aggressively and the 2 of us hauled off to the station with me tripping out in the back of a squad car. Thoughts like these were gaps in the spaces where I returned my attention to painting. I mentioned the music’s volume and Ace’s response was a shrug saying, “Yo, this is Bushwick!”. I got his point. No one cared, but I couldn’t shake my worry. I layed out a few small canvas sheets on the ground and painted with blue and white. Ace pointed my attention to the moon, and it looked like a giant slice of lime. I was taken back by its glowing radiance and suddenly the ground beneath vanished and it felt as if I were floating into the black void of the night sky. The gregorian chant was a reinforcing soundtrack creating a holy atmosphere. It was magnificent for a moment, but I couldn’t shake off being surrounded by thousands of strangers even if they were concealed in their homes. It was too much because of the people element, and it brought on some anxiety. I calmly told Ace I was going back in. We weren’t out long at all so I’m sure my behavior was obvious with how I was feeling. I returned to the position of sitting on my knees, hunched over a canvas on the floor. The hallucinations were only beginning, and the paint became alive with a pulse. I lost all control of it. The canvas was like a cage, and the paint a living creature wanting to be free. It ran off the page slowly and I could only watch it. I gave up using a brush and moved my arms in the air over the piece in a tai chi like motion waving my arms thru the wrists into the hands as if making small waves, influencing the direction of the paint. It was working! Overwhelmed by paint, I grabbed the small bag of chalk pastels nearby. There were hundreds of them in a black plastic bag, the kind they give you at the liquor store. Reaching for a color, the interior of the bag appeared ancient with all the crumbled chalk bits and dust speckling in the light like gold. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This was all too much and I wanted the trip to end but it was just beginning. Before any of this Ace mentioned if having a bad trip, taking Xanax would knock one into a deep sleep into the next day. I asked for some at this point where he replied with shock, ‘What!? Already?’. This caused me to second guess myself and trust he was suggesting I shouldn’t miss out on this opportunity. This moment became an episode like the movie Ground Hog Day where I experienced this same brief conversation over and over, losing concept of time altogether. “What about the Xanax?”. “What about the Xanax?” No matter what was happening, i would find myself reliving this moment kneeled down on the floor over my painting with Ace on my right positioned similarly, asking about the Xanax. His answer always changed slightly, and I could no longer tell if this was being re-inacted in my head or was i actually asking each time. Terror grabbed me, fearingI was stuck in this situation for eternity. It came in waves, and yet there was a salvation that lifted me above it though I always fell right back into it. My salvation was in the grand beauty of the world. All it’s colors in particular. Perhaps influenced by the Gregorian music, the Catholic image of the feminine appeared in my mind’s eye. The thought of painting her over and over washed away all my human suffering. I felt a deep motivation in my soul to work with such an image. And after this entire experience, the motivation remains just as fresh. This was all feeling, in the face of the turmoil of my thoughts and emotions as well as the hallucinations. I didn’t see or hallucinate the image of the female saint, but i felt her stronger making it just as real if not more than anything tangible. I found myself traveling deeper into the feeling of bliss. I was scared I might not return from it, yet I allowed myself to go further. Ace would make a comment, usually cracking a joke now and then which acted like an anchor returning me to reality. I was grateful as if he were doing it intentionally for this reason. Although I must say commenting on subjects such as Hitler having a micro penis didn’t help matters for me, or being told you’re not that far from being a living Van Gogh. Thanks Ace. At one point I traveled so far away into that feeling and came back to myself with such force that I involuntary clapped my hands over my head. It was like being woken up from a daydream by a car crash right before the moment of impact. My hands for whatever reason were already in prayer form. The clap caught Ace’s attention with him still painting ten feet to my right. I didn’t even try to explain what i was going thru. I looked over at him and there was the large head of a demon coming off of his canvas. It was alive and moving its head about. Ace was calm as could be, in absolute control of the thing as me moved his brush around. It was like a domesticated pet to him. I turned my head away in shock. I was distressed by the sight, yet I couldn’t help but return my glance. He came over at one point to talk and I was distracted by how he was fragmenting before my eyes. The contours of his entire body were breaking away into pixels that dissolved into the air. I went to use the restroom, and the bathroom was covered in a neon glow as if it were a forest illuminated by moss. Dead flower life began forming from the ground and tiny specks of dirt or dust moved taking the form of ants. I urniated and the liquid was pure neon. I thought of a story with the Buddha in that moment, and how everywhere he stepped flowers grew in his footsteps. This changed the space, where the rotting vegetation became tiny flowers that budded in all sorts of colors. I returned to the living room and found Ace in the kitchen. I went over to him and was caught by how beautiful he appeared. He was radiating an aura like the pictures of the saints in Catholic churches. He was a living stain glass entity. I couldn’t help but say how beautiful he appeared. He laughed. There was a self portrait I had given him and he placed on his wall. We looked at it together. I had done the painting over a decade ago. Like one of those reflector images that changes with every angle you tilt it at, becoming a new image. The self portrait changed from youth to elder in a slow chronological evolution. The beauty of it all floored me and I felt such an honor to be involved in a tradition, a ritual such as painting. The night carried on in these ways. Traveling on a spectrum between freaking out and being blissed. Dawn eventually arrived. I again asked for the Xanax and Ace placed a few in my hand. The repeating episodes were gone after. I was already feeling the return to feeling ‘normal’ again, and the Xanax made me a bit drowsy but i couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. I went to the rooftop and looked at the sun rising over Manhattan. I looked over the edge and saw Ace on the balcony painting away still. Oblivious to the rest of the world. I felt excited and relieved as if having just survived a trauma I felt grateful to have gone thru. 

      Below you will see images of some of the works that were made during the session described above. enjoy

painting by Ace where I looked over and saw the head of a demon coming to life from the canvas

painting made by me early in the stages after having taken LSD

painting by Ace during the session. This may have been a collaboration between us, but if so it is mostly his doing. I love this one

Collaboration with Sek3, 2016 collaboration piece we made together on the balcony 

self portrait 7, charcoal on newsprint paper, (2002)

headpiece 6, watersoluble oil on wood panel, 11"x 14", 2011        I imagine if you could reverse engineer the portrait paintings by two different artists what would be revealed? After removing the impressionistic brush strokes, the layering of colors, the building of forms, the variations in mark making, etc. what would be exposed beneath it all? One artist would reveal the emptiness of a blank canvas where the art was nothing more than these elements now removed from the finished result of a painting. The other would reveal a story, where the purpose to paint the portrait was born not from a motivation to create an image for the sake of painting itself, but from a Life experience. I was in an artist friend’s studio a few weeks back, and I noticed the large size portraits painted in acrylic, and obviously in progress that covered much of the space like wall paper. He hadn’t worked with the subject since a few years back and so I asked him about it. Hugh had just returned from traveling around Spain, and began telling the story of a man he had met in the community kitchen at a hostel. The man happened to have lived for 14 years in Hugh’s hometown of San Francisco, but decided he wanted to travel the world by car which he did for the next 20 years with his wife and son. They had been to many places around the world, always by driving there. The man had made a book about his journey with photographs and writings. Hugh only took a single photograph during his travels, and it was of this man with the intention to paint his portrait from having met him. He went on to tell me the stories behind each painting. I asked if he had any interest to incorporate somehow the stories behind them. Hugh did not. Hearing these backgrounds enriched the overall expression of the work, giving it depth, meaning and yet the viewer will only see the painting of these individuals.The paintings on their own are quite extraordinary, but after knowing the contents behind them I can't help but experience them after as rather ordinary as if presented incomplete. 

      I’ve always had the wish to bring forth the motivations left invisible in the background with any finished piece of art. And finally here feels like the right moment to begin the task. To integrate the visual with the literate, and bring completion to the several paintings and drawings made over 3 bodies of work since 2003. The format to achieve this will be a book, and thru this blog the beginning point to start from. I give you ‘Life Stories’.

     Where to begin? I could start from the very beginning, and work my way to the present but that is overwhelming. I know this from having tried over and over, over the past few years. And so I will just write.

     It was my first experience with LSD. It was in the summer of 2015, upstate NY. In all places for this initiation… Woodstock. How cliche. My friend, fellow artist, Ace acted as a guide with setting up the perfect situation. He was very experienced in the matter, and took care of every detail for the ideal situation. We set ourselves up in a large summerhouse buried in and above the forest, overlooking the NY reservoir. There were some neighboring houses nearby, but not a soul occupied them. The backyard itself from a 2 story patio deck led down to the beginning of the forest having no trail or boundaries. You could walk in and get lost. Ace regulated my dosage giving me half a regular full dose. The drug was a tiny wet stain on a tissue paper. I put it on my tongue and walked into the side yard meadow where it quickly dissolved. I didn’t know what to expect and quickly became a little nervous. This went away as I enjoyed the beauty of the tall grass and trees. I noticed mechanical junk spread everywhere. Circuit boards, car parts, machinery, wires and so on. Then I saw handsize plastic baby doll heads, the kind from an early era where the eyes look real with colored glass and the eyelids open and shut and have dark mascara eyelashes. The heads were decapitated, place on the tops of long skewers erected from the ground like you might see on the movie set of a tribal cannibal village. I came to find out an artist from the sixties made sculptures all thru out the area using recycled parts as I was witnessing here. It didn’t freak me out much, but it moved me to return to the house. Ace and I had set up separate painting stations, around 30 feet apart. Still I felt no different than usual, and began to paint as a distraction from the concern if the drug will ever take effect or not.

watercolor on yupo, 11"x14", 2015            layed down watercolor on a sheet of paper and had no idea what I had just painted. It was done almost as soon as I started.  My intuition with this knowing, the confidence i felt with putting the brush down felt intensely clear like never before. Excited I transported the piece to inside the house to preserve, eager to paint more. I remarked enthusiastically to Ace what just occurred and he smiled as he continued to paint on the deck. We had many insights over the following hours all the while painting, and now and then one would walk to the others station interrupting to share some. The conversations were fulfilling. During one of these Ace wanted to read the final letter he had written to his very recent ex-lover. I stood listening attentively as he read the short paragraph from his phone. Towards the end I felt the sensation of small tears forming in the corners of my eyes. This only escalated and just as he read the last word I had to excuse myself. We parted ways and I was desperate for privacy as if suddenly naked. I walked maybe ten feet and collapsed to all fours in the gravel of the drive way. Tears poured from me violently and primordial involuntary sounds came from my mouth with the convulsions that come with heavy crying. I didn’t feel pain though, i felt release. I didn’t feel embarrassed, I felt the necessity, the relief that I could finally cry this hard in my Life. If even only once. And i felt grateful, if LSD offered this alone I was content. After a few minutes I picked myself up and walked towards the meadow but collapsed again just as I reached it. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I was okay to let it happen. I cried more and looked up realizing I was in front of a burial ground with a cluster of rocks with a single heart shaped stone centered and on top as the tombstone. Above hung a line of tiny colorful flags similar to Tibetan prayer flags with the image of a dog’s paw on all of them. I cried more and suddenly Ace’s dog Macey came running by my side. She rolled around in the grass, flopping around on her back and looking into my eyes the entire time. I began to laugh and give her a hug, thanking her as if she were an angel descending to comfort the suffering.  Empathetic Suffering, watercolor on Yupo, 2015       I walked back to my station and started a new canvas. I didn’t think too hard, just painted. It was again a rapid piece. It was apparent the painting reflected the experience i had just undergone, as if the canvas were a polaroid taken during the trip and now exposed the image of the experience taken. The experience of empathy was overwhelming, yet wonderfully phenomenal and now I had a tangible record of it.  "Ordered Chaos", mixed media on Yupo paper, 2015        Continuing to paint I began to have more extraordinary experiences. Every color I reached for was the right one, every stroke i made felt correct. The usual inner critic was absent for once. The inner child thrived without restraint and I imagined this is what it must have been like as an infant, when I first made pictures and hadn’t yet developed ideas of right and wrong. Pure joy and play, absolute bliss in painting. I became an observer to my own hand as if a higher intelligence was leading it. I watched it load the brush with black ink, and in a rapid but precise succession of 3 or 4 movements like a martial art form, complete the painting with an exclamation mark felt in the action of the stroke, symbolized in the marks left by it on the canvas. The next painting I found myself trying to recreate the awesome experience, and so the painting failed all together. But the impression the previous one left, excited me to reflect later on in hopes to integrate it back into my sober process.

The Last Unicorn in the Valley of the Doll, watercolor on yupo, 11"x14", 2015           One last piece I would like to mention from this session was of an abstract horse. Like the others, it happened on its own so to speak. I had been wanting to give my friend Angel a painting as a gift, and I knew it was to be this piece. Bringing it from the painting station into the house, Ace commented how it looked like The Last Unicorn. I had no idea what he was talking about, and he mentioned an animation from his childhood having this title, though he didn’t recall any details. Later in the evening when finally done with painting for the day, I sat inside the house to rest. Looking on my phone a friend had posted in social media her excitement that The Last Unicorn was now available on Netflix. I told this to Ace and he laughed at the coincidence.  The Red Bull, watercolor on yupo, 11"x14, 2015  The next day I would do a full dose of LSD and paint the day away again. The first piece made turned out to be a reddish orange cow. Later this day I again went on my phone and curious about The Last Unicorn I read a synopsis on Wikipedia, and learned the nemesis to the unicorn was a red bull. I was at having painted the cow earlier, and telling this to Ace he laughed. A few days later when we returned to Brooklyn, I framed the painting and went to the post office to ship it out. I had written the friend’s name, Angel, in a cursive font on the package. After my turn at the counter, a young woman took my place where she caught my attention with her unusual accent along with her loud voice. I turned to look just before exiting, and she was tall wearing a very short skirt with large hole fishnet stockings and two words covered the entirety of each rear thigh. ‘Angel Face’ is what it read, written in the same generic cursive font I had used. I wanted to take a photo, but i already felt like a pervert staring at her along with all the other men in the post office. I texted Ace immediately sharing the further coincidence. He didn’t answer so I returned to the studio where he had just returned himself. He was at the pet store getting food for Macey, when he saw a customer he was convinced was his ex. She was just ahead of him in line and he couldn’t quite tell. Then he saw one of her arms which had a tattoo confirming it wasn’t her. The tattoo however read the single word ‘Angel’. Wanting to surprise Angel, I didn’t notify her that I was sending a gift. The piece was a few days past its arrival date, and I became nervous. The tracking showed it was in the city of arrival waiting for delivery. The surprise would have been a nice touch, but I decided to contact her and ask if she got it or not risking the surprise. Doing this, I happened to catch her in the moment where we were both online. Just as I was about to ask, she received the painting in that moment with the postman bringing it to her door.         Native is an artist I recently met in France. I wasn’t sure at first why I was in France at all really, but it became very clear after while living alone with Native for 2-3 weeks where we spent a good portion of each day passing drawing books between each other, collaborating on drawing after drawing often with long periods of silence between us although sitting just feet apart. Our dialogue was occuring loudly in our collaborative process. I was here to meet this individual on the Life, Art path. (continued)

'Life Drawing #21', ink on paper, 6"x8", 2016

Q: Can you please discuss this current body of work you’ve titled ‘Life Drawings’? Is their a meaning to it’s title? Was it inspired by anything?

A: The title came to me somewhere in the process of making the works. I found myself drawing figure after figure, and I guess Life Drawing came to mind thinking of the tradition where an artist works from a living human model as a subject of reference for their drawing or painting, which is generally know as ‘Life Drawing’. For myself however, the model is not a human subject but is life itself. So its just playing with words and meanings. 

Q: How long have you been working on ‘Life Drawings’?

A: Off and on for just over a year.  

Q: Can you talk about your process? 

A: The process is quite simple. Its really just a matter of drawing. I sit down with paper and a pen, and draw.

'Life Drawing #1', ink on paper, 6"x8", 2016 'Life Drawing #32', ink on paper, 11"x14", 2017

Q: Can you elaborate on that? I notice the drawings are mainly figures intermingling in all sorts of ways with one another. What reference do you use in getting various gestures and correct anatomy for example?

A: Its mainly imagination. This is also backed with learned knowledge of course with drawing, but the latter is just a vehicle serving with riding in the passenger's seat on the paper wherever the hand and head decide to go. With the blank page, I give myself to not knowing what I will draw at all. Acting with spontaneity, reacting after with intuition, then using the conscious mind with bringing more clarity and form to things that begin to appear on the page. I’m finding this approach to be a way which opens a door into the subconscious, revealing hidden aspects within that I wasn’t before aware of. Im finding it extraordinarily fascinating for this reason alone, as if coming to know a most intimate stranger a bit more each day but oddly having spent every second of my life up till then, with them always near. So I guess this stranger really, is the model that I'm calling life. 

Q; It looks like your painting the series as well?

A: Yes. Although I mentioned the meaning to the title with Life Drawing earlier, I wouldn’t restrict myself just so it can make sense or whatever. For example, that I should only do drawings because the body of work is ‘Life Drawings’. I like to keep the whole thing open, even if that means it all may go in a direction that is completely somewhere else. Which it sort of is. So naturally, since I paint the exploration has recently found its way there. More exciting is to explore new forms of creativity, new mediums which I've been doing recently with film. Also I've been collaborating with other artists and their preferred mediums such as a writer, a photographer, and more.

Q: What have you learned from making this series of work so far?

A: Its a little early to tell. I’m too involved in the work and haven’t really stepped back where I can see it in it’s entirity. But I can say i’m inspired to continue going further by whats coming out. I was thinking about all the stuff that we hold inside ourselves. In our heads, in our bodies, in our hearts. You know, the accumulated life experience. The thoughts, emotions, memories that result from it. What do we do with it? I’m inspired by, and this work relates to, not only my own, but the many stories I’ve heard, all the different individuals i’ve known and continue to hear from the lives they’ve lived. Its phenomenal just how much every person will go thru in their lifetime. Such a thought came somewhere along the way with looking at the drawings that were manifesting, in my eyes seeing pieces of us all in them. 

Q: Do you have a favorite piece, or a piece that you feel represents what your trying to express?

A: I made a painting just a week ago where in its process and result, reflects what i am going for with Life Drawing. I have no recollection of how I painted it, although it was quite rapid and again only a week ago. What I do remember however, is that I painted the piece horizontally, and settled with it as purely abstract. No representation of anything identifiable, but I must have liked the overall feeling it conveyed or something. A few hours later as it was put aside to dry, I walked by then seeing it with not only fresh eyes, but in a vertical position. It was experienced as a new painting altogether, and I saw the obvious profile of a portrait. So much so as if it were intentional. It was an odd experience, looking at this piece where I knew I had painted it, yet feeling as if I hadn’t. Or even, feeling something else had. Furthermore, I enjoyed sitting with it days later because of the feeling that it conveyed with its colors, marks, and subject. All of this felt sublime, and although I was the creator, I don’t see how I could create such a thing consciously. I think its impossible. I could now copy it, but that wouldn’t be the same. So this process of the mysterious manifested, the invisible made visible, abstraction transformed into a visual representation of symbol is a creative process/result that I'm chasing with the Life Drawing series. I say this in hindsight, thru realization after the fact. Taking the first steps I had no conscious intentions at all with any of this.  

Q: Is there an ultimate aim? Is there something you hope the viewer can take from the Life Drawing Series?

A: I have my own intentions, but I’d rather not elaborate on them. I don’t see the point to. I just hope that for the viewer, the artwork will be of benefit in whatever shape that may take.  

Q: So whats next?

A: Well, just continuing the work until its finished. Also, I’m working on making art print,s as well as a book. I have the first prints ready and hoping to release them in the following week. The book although in development, may or may not be finished until the body of work is complete but that hasn’t been decided.  

Q: Thank you Akira for taking the time, and I look forward to seeing more Life Drawings.

A: Thank you. I as well. 

"House on Fire", collaborative painting by Sek3 and Akira Beard

           I dreamed I was in a large house. It was occupied by several people. Many of whom felt familiar like acquaintances, yet distant in the way that I didn’t know anyone’s name.  One room I was in, had me laying in bed with a woman. She was close to middle age, sort of attractive with an amazing body, and aggressive with the desire for sex. It was late, I was tired, but was kept up by her demands and a nervous energy. The nervousness came from a man laying in the same bed next to us. She in the middle, he and I on either side. He was awake, facing our direction but having a nonchalant attitude towards the pseudo intimacy occurring next to him. I wasn’t really occupied with his presence, but felt confused by it. Why doesn’t he leave? The woman pushed herself on me, but I just didn’t share the same libido and wanted to leave. We didn’t have sex. I exited looking for a bathroom. The house’s interior was in bad shape, looking as if it were in the process of still being built, or it was coming apart. It was hard to tell. I entered a large empty room with high ceilings. I went up some stairs to a bathroom that was just a corner of the room boxed off by 2 tall boards of fiber wood clumsily nailed together. Inside there was only room to stand, impossible to even sit on the toilet. I opened the door slightly looking out, and saw a man with a group of youths around middle school aged looking up at me. I closed the door and locked it. As I began to pee, a long electrical wire thin as string with its ends split open exposing tiny strands of wiry copper encased in rubber tubing fell swinging from a large gap in the corner of the wall. It crossed with my stream of urine as it swung back into the wall’s gap. Immediately smoke began rising from the gap, followed by a small flame. I could see a small stack of unused paper towels folded in squares like one sometimes does when out of toilet paper. The top piece having caught fire, I pulled it out and stomped it into ashes extinquinshing the flame. There was more paper deeper in the gap out of reach. A fire broke from it, getting into the walls and I began to panic. This house was on its way to a rapid complete incineration. My mind racing, the first instinct was to run thru out the house shouting “Fire! FIRE!!”. Just as quickly, I was halted by the self awareness that this was my doing. I felt guilt, shame, fear that the lives of others was ruined by my hands. The entire situation completely overwhelmed me into a state of shock and paralysis… then I woke up. Eyes opening, I felt confused in the first seconds with shifting into reality. My heart still racing, where was the fire that surrounded me? In a flash, gone? Then I realized it was a dream, and my heart calmed into relief. It was 6 am, and fully awake now I was grateful it wasn’t ‘real’. 

Song "Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness by Smashing Pumpkins

      I started the day with sitting in a chair and drawing on a pad with pen, forming a cluster of figures. I’m here in a hotel in another country. The landscape isn’t that different from the U.S., I don’t however speak the local language. Waking up before the friends I’m staying with here, I’m unsure how to begin the day. Regardless of which however, I can always resort to drawing and so i do.  My friend Sek awakes a bit later, whereafter I decide to venture into the world for a cup of coffee. Upon returning an hour later, he smiles, showing me how he has added to the drawing while I was away. I didn’t mind at all, especially with how he expresses his pleasure in adding more figures to the cluster describing its process similar to solving a puzzle. My mind escapes me as I listen,  reflecting on all the people in my life and  even into the brief interactions I only earlier had, with for example, trying to order a grande vanilla latte with nonfat milk in a language i don’t speak. Here I was solving the riddle in the interacton between a barista and I, while simultaneously a bigger cluster of inner mental figures tangled, wrestling one another for position. Figures of anxiety, confidence, play, artist, consumer, idiot all overlapping at once, trying to communicate to this fellow person that i want nonfat milk. Luckily he was patient and kind with the petty affair. As I write this now, the following day from these events, I sit on a balcony high up in the same hotel where I can see a team of construction workers laboring together towards the erection of a neighboring building that is likely to be another hotel. They resemble ants more than humans in these efforts, working as a single body in their collective uniform, each individual going about their assigned task but as a unit. Another cluster that melts the parts into a whole. The separated parts that have their own personal worlds, and yet together form the world itself. 

    And so later that same previous day, from  early evening and into the hour just after midnight, Sek and I worked on a number of collaborative paintings. The first of these were the continuation with approaching the multifigure clusters that I have been creating on my own in this Drawing from Life Project. And so how lovely, where the opportunity occurs effortlessly with bringing this idea of relating to one’s self and with others, literally now here in the creative course of making art with he and I painting together. This integration of art with life never fails to leave a lasting impression on me. Of which gives trace with many of the works i’ve ever made, a story to be told with how they came to be. Such with these created together over this nite.  We each began a separate piece, laying down a figure on canvas with pencil and passing the two between each other. There was no direction other than working from the basis of this initial placement of figures, and I think he and I work together well in this way where this relating to one another on canvas, is without struggle/tension and opens up to a joyful interaction of play that invites absolute possibilities, where more often than not surprises us both in the results manifested. This artists interaction is casual, simple and easy as if talking to a friend in conversation with shared mutual interests, and without boundary. Everything is open without secret or hesitation, having no idea where any of it will go, and no resistance exists towards which. Just a sincere, honest, vulnerable dialogue. And with relating with others, not much more than such things attract my interest more. Yet sadly more often than not, I find others unwilling and/or are unable to relate with in this way. When the piece was complete, another friend/artist walked by adding to it the title, "This is Woman, This is Man... they can't live without each other". And so the cluster grows. Among ourselves, among each other. Drawing from Life continues, and please enjoy the slide show documenting the process of this piece.

(song for slideshow "handle with care" by Kid Cudi)

       

        There are several layers to the Self. The personality, the psyche, the inner world of each our individual selves. My work as artist, and the life I live are integrated with the aim in peeling apart those layers. The Self Portrait Project is a continuation with having done this beginning around 15 years ago, my initiation with taking that first step towards the journey of who I am occured with looking into a mirror and then drawing what was reflected back. In his book “Memories, Dreams, and Reflections”, CG Jung experienced a dream where he was in a house having many floors where he began from the upper level and descended to its bottom. Each floor descended became more unfamiliar, eventually becoming archaic. From this dream he  realized each floor symbolized various levels of the human psyche where the top layer of knowing was the conscious, and below, the subconcious where beyond it contained the collective subconscious. With reference to his dream, my own life's exploration and reflected thru artwork has been my walking down those stairs in my own inner home. Its a phenomenal thing, at any point to look back on one’s life and witness how much one has grown consciously if having lived in such a way. How for example, when re-watching a film that one saw in childhood, such as Pinnochio, when viewed again years later one may come to see all sorts of meanings held within all sorts of symbolism. This of course not being limited to movie watching, more so experiencing all aspects within the realm of life itself. Including the world of dreaming!  Meanings holding clues to the riddles of existence. This is the wonder of mythology. How its archaic catalogue of stories are filled with endless portrayals of archetypes that reflect aspects of a primordial, basic generic self that crosses boundaries of culture and time, revealing the core of the collective Self, eternally relevant even to the unknowing invidivual drifting with haste in the course of the modern world of living, and separated from this nuclueus. And again with Jung, and his contributions to the field of better understanding the psyche, that divided self we become (the neurotic self) can gather it's pieces assembling them into a whole again recreating balance, harmony, connection, health in being. What he called ‘individuation’. 

    My creative process with artwork is held in being open to working in any sort of ways. Especially with one of the aims being exploration as described above, such an approach is crucial. The metaphor of emptying one's glass so it can be filled by another comes to mind. Like drinking the same liquid repitituously, how can one even begin to have the slightest idea of what all other variables taste like? And so as artist, being an open channel to the experience of where I am on any given day, which is always changing, is the approach. More and more ultimately, this process is anything but linear and nowhere near consistent. This naturally conflicts with how we are programmed since birth, and I find myself always in confrontation somehow with this conflict. Whether it is within, or outside of myself as in relation to others. This walking is more circular, like walking around a central point in the pattern of a circle within a maze that orbits from a central point that is the destination. Sometimes in this maze I become lost and stumble upon places I have been before. Its comforting to hold on to the past's familiarity after having gone into new territory that brings sometimes a sense of overwhelmingness from it. But I find it's important not to stay too long sitting in that seat of comfort, if one desires further realization of Self and the world. A few months ago I began drawing purely from imagination and intuition. I did it for around 2 months, then suddenly stopped. Beyond my earliest drawing period from childhood into adolescents, I haven’t really created in this way. Recently was different from then however, where not only technically was I now more advanced with drawing craft, but consciously I was naturally (and with much hard work the same) more developed as well. And so the 2 working together here, I was taken back by what was appearing on the paper. Its almost as if I were a witness to myself, watching someone else draw images in front of my eyes. And my excitement grew, which led into a slight mania with drawing first thing each morning as well as each night before sleeping,  over the course of a few weeks.  The rainbow  of my inner world was pouring out, and in moments I felt as if I were holding gold at the ends of some of these drawings. Their value being utterly personal. The unconscious was my greatest companion in my world of solitude and aloneness. It was like being awake and drawing my dreams effortlessly. It felt like being audience to a film that was foreign, yet strangely all too familiar after each scene passing. I understood everything it was saying in its cryptic language of visual symbol. Ironically, I also understood that consciously I could not say such things, and it was opposingly the subconscious' voice speaking, that expressed such things that could only be said by in the strange way of rather listening. Looking back now almost 2 months after this episode, I’m surprised I was able to keep that tunnel into the inner dimension open for as long as I did. I knew it was coming to an end when my conscious Self became controlling of the situation, wanting to formulate a consistency, concerned with the results. Still I tried, and ironically that was the problem. The process was one of spontaneity. And so how does one try to be spontaneous? Still I drew, but those doors closed more with each failure in this way.  Although failing to return here with drawing, maybe from the exhaustion with which, I recently found another entrance thru a side door with painting. Similar to  the drawings, here it was with with colors, strokes, that gave form to a puddle of abstraction, the image of inner experience whose meaning I smile in further awareness after. It is absolutely gratifying like discovering something that has been there all along, yet never noticed. I think of the movie Teen Wolf from the 1980's, where the main character becomes pretentious in his extroversion to achieve the one thing that he thinks will make him happy, the gorgeous head cheerleader of his highschool. He succeeds in winning her, yet it doesn't work out although it was a blast for a minute. In the end he comes to realize what he was really looking for was in the form of his childhood friend that always hinted at him for affection, yet he was always blind there to. And so he walked in the path of a complete circle, returning to the intitial starting point of his childhood where she was still there waiting and they lived happily ever after. I've experienced this quite literally as well as deeply symbolic. And again, the world holds meaning in abundance everywhere we turn our head. It is only from taking a responsibility in coming to know ourselves, that we may begin to develop the proper eyes that can see any of it. And if artist, to develop the hand just the same in drawing what has been seen, making the invisible visible to Self and others. Always more to come…. 'Life Drawing #40', ink on paper, 9"x12", 2016  

'Life Drawing #81', ink on paper, 11"x14", 2015 'Life Drawing #84', ink on paper, 11"x14", 2015 'Life Drawing #35', ink on paper, 11"x14", 2016

  The Self Portrait Project

             Currently living in solitude, separated from the world in many ways. Often alone except when spending time together with a close friend nearby. Although the aloneness can be painful some nights, it is invited inside intimately like a companion with the desire in coming to know more each day who they are, rather than as an enemy to be protected from, feared. I feel like a monk in sanctuary, tuning into an eternal silence that rests behind the noise and clutter grown accustomed to with modern living. I am not entirely alone however, where in writing these  words a church bell rings and a tribe of small children in Catholic school uniforms run to the playground just a hundred feet or so from my studio. This current artist’s studio is in a church building on the countryside of California near the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Last week as I took a break from painting and sat on the porch to rest my eyes, a monk visiting from Tibet approached asking for a chair. I grabbed one from inside, whereafter he and 2 other monks sat in a circle chanting in unison a mantra in their native tongue for half an hour at the table near me. The atmosphere is filled with an abundance of such spiritual and religious energy that feels nourishing, especially in evening hours when the only remaining figures are statues of catholic saints lit by moonlight. Its an opportunity I dare not miss, having the space to have such quality time with one’s self. I feel this way with many situations more often these days however, when able to let go of expectations of where I would rather be or who I wish to be with. Just before this I was living in New York for the better portion of the year, where the situation was the antithesis to this. There was little space to breathe much less find any real silence in its excess of energy, activity and people. And I dared not miss the opportunity to engage with that either. The difference I’m finding here is not feeling a need for more than to just be. How fast life passes when it is revolves around always doing. Ideally it would be filling to have both maybe. Such a thought arrives while painting these Self Portraits. Where the doing (the act of painting), is in being with the content of what is being painted. Drawing from the content of the inner world of thoughts, ideas, emotions, experiences… the inner Self. If you’ve followed the progress of the Self Portrait Project at all, you may notice the inconsistency with the imagery of the portraits. How they are not of a single individual. In regards to the inner Self portrayed however, they absolutely are representative of which. Every piece has a story attached, because each was painted only out of a necessity to express an interaction with living. Only in the studio space, do I find the pause in discovering life while it isn’t happening in brief, daily periods of creativity. Then its a return into the constancy of the world, traveling down its stream always in motion. I only speak on my own creative process of course, and what it has developed into. I paint, draw, write what is important. This my subjectivity, being the appreciation of the short life given, viewed from many angles. Expression, curiosity, engagement, examination, appreciation, and so on. Each painting represents pieces of this homage to living. So as individual artworks perhaps each appears as a random portrait in their separation, but together I hope they can form a single, broader portrait expressing the beautiful wonder contained within the spectrum of existence, drawing from the plane we are all born into, exist within, and finally leave from. 

            Inspired after watching a documentary on artist Bryan Lewis Saunders, I began painting a self portrait everyday for a week. Saunders has remained true to this art form for more than 20 years, having never missed a day. You may be familiar with his work from an experiment where he spent 11 days under the influence on various drugs while continuing to make self portraits. Aside from this tiny aspect of his overall body of work,  Saunders is committed towards keeping true to this daily practice for the remainder of his life! I found the devotion alone extraordinary, but more so it was the expressiveness of the artwork that inspired a return for myself into Self Portraiture. Working within the boundaries of such a specific, single subject, each piece however turning out so differently from the next, expressing all sorts of varying aspects to the individual. Sometimes revealed as well are aspects relative to the broader world of the many.  Art aside, this has been an ongoing interest thru out most of my development. The curiosity born in children with arriving into the world as a foreigner and engaging with all things as much as possible, so as to become familiar with any of it. That curiosity never left, and each painting made is a reflection of its ongoing exploration. So here is artist as child remaining, looking into the mirror of the world and solitude, and reflecting back what is seen from the eyes of intuitive creation, one painting at a time. And with these artworks, and those to follow I present The Self Portrait Project. 

           The insights reflected from the words above come from the life experience. And although "Love in Spite of Everything", was motivated by the experience of intimacy, it is not limited to. Such a place aided in the awakening of discovery as how I've come to experience love (mostly by experiencing what love is not), and this extended into a love that is met with the world at large. And so I will share current reflections of life exploration, that is the catalyst towards going to the studio and making art that aims at embodying the treasures of realization. Enjoy.

             Succulent Studios in Brooklyn, New York in October nearing three months past. The opening of my "Inadvertent Solo Show", was approached with the enthusiasm of open arms as mentioned above. My perspective was clear, centered. It all stemmed from one mantra alone. I'm so grateful to be here. To have been invited by strangers that placed nothing but support, confidence in my abilities. And to accept the invitation to bring forward my developed meaning up to this point, I unhesitatingly said Yes! And the fruits of a week's labor of living in the gallery, working from morning to night was about to be celebrated now. I enjoyed every second of the process up to which. Because I never forgot, how wonderful it is to have a breathe, and to breathe color into the world with it. I had no expectations. No extroverted concerns. I only accepted the challenges of the present in what ever they would be. But there revealed none. What occurred over the course of the evening was the most successful show I've have yet to participate in. My aim with all that I do is that it somehow benefit any other. That somehow what I represent can manifest human connection. Both outwardly, but especially inwardly. Whether its merely inspiration from the aesthetics of my works, or the deeper meanings there content holds, I always hope somehow any of it will leave the viewer changed in a way better to themselves, towards their own well being. And so at this reception, it was amazingly consistent at how many individuals I met that collaborated with myself in this way. The dialogues I found myself in with complete strangers, that opened themselves to me of who they were and what they took from the show touched me so deeply. The defiency  that I so often experience in the world, that saddens me more than all else was non-existent here. I had to pinch myself more than once. Humans so loving of themselves, not hiding but revealing and interacting with curiosity, intrigue. Fearless of vulnerability, sharing in trust. I was offered a number of opportunities to continue these experiences beyond that night with some of these folks met. Invited into the intimacy of strangers worlds, some would become instant friends. One of which is Angela. "Angel of the Sun", whose experience with played a major motivating influence in the current body of work began following this show, 'Love in Spite of Everything'... To be continued

religare, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5",2014

Some scholars have traced the origins of the word "religion" to it's latin roots of 'religare', translated as "to reconnect, bind". (re= again) (ligare= to bind)... It is with this re-connection that is at the heart of our fundamental struggle in, with all things in this world. It is also the completest victory if we are ever able bring the 2 together. As it once was, though with time, our choices had stretched a space between so far. May we meet one another there, on that mountain top of our shared destiny, fullfilled and be among one another in rejoice, grace, and peace.

   Excerpt from TS Elliot's poem "The Gidding"-

What we call the beginning is often the end
 And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from
...we shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring 
Will be to arrive where we started 


And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate 


When the last of earth left to discover 
Is that which was the beginning; 


At the source of the longest river 


The voice of the hidden waterfall


And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for


But heard, half-heard, in the stillness

Between two waves of the sea.


Quick now, here, now, always-- 
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)


And all shall be well and
 All manner of thing shall be well


When the tongues of flames are in-folded 
Into the crowned knot of fire


And the fire and the rose are one.

"There is a moment in which I first recognize the nature of the person I'm looking at, encoded in the patterns of areas and lines etched into their face. A droop here, a dimple there, simple boundaries for a geometry of identity, singing loudly out of the silence of a stranger's countenance. I look at it, and parse the hidden meaning.
    The man in question is a sagging son of a bitch-- at first glance. His friends, such as they are, fault him for his softly sad, contemplative attitude. They see it as a failure to take action. All his life he's known better, has known his own mind in silence, secure enough in his own truth that he saw no need to speak up just to correct the misapprehensions of others. He hasn't wanted to make a fuss about it, hasn't wanted to stand up and assert himself. He knows that people don't' really care to know the truth, that the truth's simulacrum is good enough for most everyone to shunt around as a dead symbol of what it is.
   In other circumstances, in long ago moments long dead to the present, in a time when he wasn't yet so sure in his own person, his decisiveness manifested-- invisibly, unexpectedly. Nobody witnessed the trials he was put through, and there was nobody there to cheer as he passed them all with flying colors. That's how and when he knew himself: alone in a room that never changes --a chamber within.  And just as it didn't matter then to prove anything to anyone else, he knew at that moment that he never again would care to drag his inner life, naked, through the dust of public display, for other people to squint at with myopic eyes and form meaningless opinions about.
  He would simply know, and keep silent, his daring and his will hidden behind the veil of appearance. He would be complete, one and alone, forever contemplating his own reflection without the need to reveal it. He would come into being. He would become God. "- Lapo ink on paper, 8.5"x 5.5", 2015

"Alienation", ink on paper, 5.5"x 8", 2014

I can recall so early on feeling so different from all those around me. The analysis of details explaining why,  I do not know, but the feeling was clear to myself. I never found myself fitting in, regardless of the tribe I was surrounded by. I can remember being excited at the orientation upon attending art college, where the speech giver talked on this subject, giving the hypothetical example where being one of the few artists in one's elementary thru high-school education, and how this made us a 'freak' of sorts that brought feelings of alienation. He concluded by saying this institution would be a home of communion of like minds, and by the cheers and laughter that followed it was obvious how many of us related, including myself. My alienation however would not be cured with this communion, for my interest would be found to be different of those even among of most of my art peers. Interestingly, and openly I state how even to this day I feel alienated. The difference is the emotion that relates to it is no longer of the negative sort, where I've come to accept. The substance of my feelings of alienation in past were perhaps different in how it was melded with adolescent development into adulthood which comes with all sorts of physical and psychological challenges naturally, but today my alienation relates to meaning and purpose. Life up to this point has been presented to me as a baton and running with it into a world of uncertainty with the aim of realizing the simple fundamental nature at the root of this world. I love life so deeply, so openly, and I would like to say fearlessly but I continue to work on which but I am with daily focus doing which. Everyday I work on myself with developing the courage to live with devotion to the heart in the face of all the obstacles that poke at it. And the sadness that I feel is that I can feel alienated for the pursuit of such an endeavor. Regardless, I walk forward and love it all in spite of everything! The following are the words written in the drawing "Aliennation". Enjoy.

Our alienation… alien to ourselves, to those around us. We have a world within that we fail often in its exploration So focused on the world outside. So caught up that we grow to forget about anything else. And so fade the possibilities of life form, existing anywhere but our narrow scope of a universe. And this control eats at us, ruins our eyes. We are never able to see clearly as if looking into the sun that one time too long. We travel in time warps missing the view of terrain that is organic, colorful and so alive it talks to us. But our eardrums are damages and our ears have fallen from lack of use. We hear life's noise and mistake it for life's music. And all this missing of the sights, sounds, tastes, feeling grows dark in our bellies and expands into a cancer with a sad face. In our distortions of thought based realities we confuse the disguise of our well being and public appearances for all that we are. But that face that grows from our bellies grows so big, becomes so intimidating yet it is like a newborn. It just wants to be fed and loved, and is crying because the neglect is killing it slowly like an unkept garden of flowers. Water the roots and watch how it all begins to change. From this (_____) to that (_____).

http://www.ebay.com/itm/Original-Akira-Beard-ink-drawing-034-Alienation-034-/251648170865?

"The Artist", ink on paper, 8.5"x 5.5", 2014

              Staying at the residence of a friend's near the Sierra Nevada Valley in Northern California, it felt as if we were 2 artists living at the Yellow House like Van Gogh and Gauguin. We meaning Della and myself. Della was often inspired by the surrounding nature which was endless pine and oak trees. She would gather her watercolors and walk off to a different spot to paint each day. She asked if I ever felt inspired by all the beauty in the landscape, and I replied with a yes, however not in the same way to paint it. I found the environment itself, of open sky, a panorama of forestry, the colors and the textures, the sounds and the smells inspiring in that it pushed me to create effortlessly. It was an energy that I worked with, where I would wake up on the couch on the front porch to a sunrise of pink and blue and begin to write and/or draw before I had even adjusted my waking vision. The contentment felt was deep, that this was enough to be here in the presence of such beauty and to create from where I sat in it. No obligations, no deadlines, no pressures, just the appreciation of life and the involuntary act of making artworks influenced by this. And though the majority of the time was spent in solitude in this manner, as mentioned in the previous blog post there were moments where Della and I communed over coffee, dinner, etc. And from here we had a series of talks, in this case relating to art. We talked of our relations to art, what art means to ourselves, and so on. And being playful with intuition, when I carried on in my space of drawing, without intention of illustrating our conversation it was only after the result where I would consistently realize that what appeared on the page was reflecting the many conversations we had. So here, after talking of art, it was a portrait of an artist that manifested. And the text in the piece... " The artist... So much potential in the hands of an artist. In all our lives, we tend to live by an unspoken code, a non-existing social contract of compromise. Whenever in the public spot light, and even in the presence of close company we hold back. Play roles. Our lives are governed by a fear of what will the neighbor's think. And it is in art where a platform of liberation exists like a room without a door, without walls, waiting to be walked in. Yet how many accept this invitation? Many surround the boundlessness of the space within with walls of neuroses and paint it in colors of idiosyncrasy, commercialism, banality, tradition and put locks of fear on the door. In the West we have freedom of expression. Yet if a person isn't liberated in the deeper existential sense, how can they possibly exercise this liberty? And never is the cosmic battle of our individual lives of higher and lower self, of big mind and little mind, material and metaphysical, ego and the awareness looking back into the ego, so apparent as it is to the creator who finds themselves in front of a blank canvas. And thus the question is no longer what he/she will paint, but firstly what is the source from which they will paint it? ", were taken from the essence of my feelings involved in Della and I's dialouge. And so from the process of life, a piece is brought forth with the hope of transmitting the nourishment experienced by the creator and into the viewer. May these expressions inspire as I have been inspired to create them.

       In the artist's spirit of always pushing the creative envelope, the creativity is not limited to the art itself. Or perhaps it is all art.  And so with this, I extend the relationship with the viewer interested in possession of these art works created, offered thru an interactive process of bidding. This is the first piece presented for the auction, which begins at a bid of $30. These are original pen and ink artworks, 5.5"x 8.5", and are presented in a simple white frame. Please click here to bid. I will continue to post each piece created during my recent retreat, and have them available and presented in the same fashion as shown here on my blog with high res pic and background on the piece.  Regardless if or not you participate in the auction process, I appreciate the support of following these endeavors of creativity and heart. Best to all...

     The second drawing that I share, following the introduction of the preceeding blog post, in the body of drawings/writings that I created in my 2 week nature retreat is titled "it is what it is not". The text written on the drawing itself is "one of the ways of learning of what something is, is by experiencing what it is not... Love for example". When I find myself in the opportune space of complete solitude, I allow my heart to run its course and bring to the surface of thought what it shall like an archaeologist digging thru ancient ruins and piecing fragmented fossils together in classifying a species of time past. One of the reoccuring chapters that this process opens to is human relationships. Lovers, friends, family, acquaintances, and so forth. This recent retreat of 2 weeks in the woods was spent nearly in isolation accept for the company my dear friend Della, who's invitation I accepted in being able to be in such a circumstance. Being creatives, there was an unspoken respect in regards to giving one another space to be naked in one's own isolated element. There were rituals of communion however, where we gathered and shared so openly our nudeness in the presence of each other. Usually over morning coffee just after sunrise, or laying on the ground with full bellies under the stars we talked so vulnerably. What I found interesting about the process as a whole over this 2 week occurence was how it all translated thru the artwork without effort. It was almost as if the drawings simply extended the conversations whether they were with myself or Della. So in this drawing, the thoughts, feelings that I had recently with an ex-lover made itself visual as if I were simply a viewer myself in the process watching an invisible creator illustrate a story that i was speaking of. I choose not to share details in respect of making a presentation of another that isn't so favorable. I have no dilema of presenting myself in a way that is not so pleasant, like sharing a photo that shows my not so good side under harsh light, but it is slanderous in placing another in a situation without there consent. The positive however, is that there is always the possibility that the decomposing stench of a present made past may compost into giving fresh soil of life to fresh flowers that breathe natural fragrance of perfume. That is my feeling towards the words in the piece expressing the wisdom of seeing the benefit of what may appear at first negative. In the words of Lao Tzu who says to thank one's abuser, I say thanks to she for the priceless gift I could have recieved no other way. With the deepest gratitude... I will always cherish the light as well as the dark from the experience. "The Negation of Love", ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014   Click here to bid

                 The definition of myself, upon recent discovery, in regards to social title of what I do is that of philosopher. The artistic aspect follows this rather than guides. One of my confusions of recent that has grown, but from this retreat has been cut through is that I draw and paint. The confusion has gathered from taking the results of these creations on a professional level of exhibitions, promotion, etc. and having met all types of artists and seeing all types of arts, yet in both finding very little relation towards either in what is at the center, ambitions of my own practice. With painting for example, so much of my experience with others has been the focus on the elements, the aesthetics of painting itself. Design orientation as the motive, where the inspiration is about color, shape, texture, etc. and the experimentation within a compositional frame. Such things aren't fascinating to me. I'm more interested in the person's life than what they paint. And seldom do I see this thru a person's work in this manner. Not that this is good, bad, or trying to define what art is or whatever, I am simply stating the beginnings of my own relation. I would rather spend a day with a farmer that lives a life of contentment and walk into his world, than see a retrospective of the worlds greatest painter. When I taught briefly on the college level, I had a great conversation with one of the model's while we were on break before setting up the next pose. He was an artist, and we talked of our process. He would describe his inspiration came from seeing the shapes of light fall on an object, and how he would be drawn to translate the response to canvas with color. My inspiration came from hearing this man's struggle with getting older and how a physical injury had bed ridden him to where he had to come to terms of having defined himself for so long on being an athlete and having a Bruce Lee body, only to take up smoking, drinking and gaining weight and suffering a depression from not being able to continue the lifestyle of running and gym work that he had made routine for years like eating breakfast first thing in the morning. I wanted to paint that! The class I was teaching was anatomy, which involved 'Life Drawing'. The interesting aspect with this is again, my relation to this term is more personal. But like the conversation with the model mentioned, I understand the conventional definition of what is being spoken about. Life Drawing, working from a live model as opposed to from a photograph. I did my share of this in learning the principles of drawing, painting, and it was exciting but the excitement transferred onto broader things once I received the education I had reached for. And so with the principles learned, life drawing for myself became defined in drawing from life. Experiencing the life journey and making the invisible abstract aspect of it visible in sharing, expressing thru the aesthetics of the visual arts. The artist in the shadow of the philosopher.

        On my retreat, I created a body of work consisting of drawings. I wrote much as well and have incorporated some of the writings into the drawings. The process of all the works was intuitive. Never knowing where each piece would go, I would begin by scrambling lines on paper and at some point an image would begin to take shape. It was always a journey of following the shape to fruition, a mystery revealed in each piece. This process was a reflection of the heart of where I found myself in the arms of nature. There was no work to be done, but just sway with the wind as if I were one of the many leaves on the branches of the surrounding oaks and pines that swayed in the force and music like a soft orchestra came forth from in the spaces of infinite leaves on infinite trees existing in the same universal pool of life all relating as a solid whole of so many fragmented parts. I was along for the ride and here it was came from it. Enjoy!

       This upcoming week, along with sharing the pieces created I will be creating an auction bid where if the viewer is interested, they can purchase the piece. I will be doing this from my blog page, where I will share background on the piece at hand. 

"Forward on The Path", ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014        The accumulation of this idea of self that grows bigger with age. An abstract representation of who we think we are sculpted from the clay of the daily experience of our lives. Life giving it shape, not our own hands. This is the difference between reaction and creation. Conformity and individuality. The clay head gets bigger with time, and becomes so heavy and though we grow weary of carrying it upwards each step we know no other way of doing so. We have no existing reference point of comparison. "Thats life", "that's the real world" we casually say with tired arms and legs. But its when the happy accidents of our lives trips us up and the weight we hold onto so desperately falls from our hands and shatters to pieces that the world becomes a feather. Some float on and enjoy the groundlessness. Others cant get beyond the fear, how the pulsating of the dormant heart beats so alive and there is for once no shadow of a weight to hide it. The heart of the human core is exposed in the universe's light and it burns like looking at the sun for the first time. The fear cultivates the desperate act of senseless of putting all the pieces back together until the weight is heavy enough to continue carrying up the stairs. And it is does get lonely if one remains a feather, gliding up the stairs easily losing all sight of a society of Sisyphuses that get stuck at the bottom falling and climbing with the weight of their life burden of creation. And the feather should be the symbol of freedom, because the experience of it is. So fragile, so vulnerable, so easy, so light, and so trusting and so open in floating in accordance with the winds of the world and seeing it all from vantage points of the high and low. This is a tall order and not for all. The antithesis perhaps could be likened to a rock, and many settle for this. Settle for less when there is so much more. If anything could come from this writing, its the awareness that there is so much more.

      Always eating from the fruit of the social nature of how I involve myself in the interactions with anyone near that is interested in being my dossier in the sharing of their life, with regards to the artist and the soul such interactions of recent have provided insight as well as motivation to reflect back on my own status of which I will keep others confessions private here, in how obviously the shame to have fallen so far from one's inner nature regardless of how far. That is hearing the stories of various individuals that have reached that point currently, where the external focus of creating art (building a name, making a living solely with it, taking on impossible deadlines, etc) had bottomed out where one came to a point in even the the thought of art has become to paintful and/or confusing. I myself have been influenced in a way of recent, though in a polar oposite way. Placing too much emphasis on the guarding of integrity, and so in an extreme grasping too tightly with the end result being not much different from the artist that makes art from a source of marketing standpoint. Both lose sight of the fundamental nature of the origins that had one creating so early in life before all types of ideas formed with what was enjoyed so naturally, effortlessly. And so in this manner, I find it necessary to put on the brakes, step back, close my eyes and open them with a renewed shift from the detail to the whole and the walking back towards the aim of unification of the two.

          And this all leads to this current piece. Mr. Miyagi. I have painted him at times previously, but this is not to to be mistaken as an attempt in moving backwards in repeating a process of past success. Rather it is tapping into a muse, a source that I recognized at some point where to bring forth the energy of which I have deviated from. The archetype of Miyagi as a body of wisdom, comedy, patience, gentleness yet firm.  Stoic yet emotional when its real. A fantasy based in reality, that leaves no trace of damage, but restoration of inner strength and aspiration. Values that I find to be vital, and accessible and in how Miyagi exists as an phantom teacher in the reconnecting of the self to the soul of my experience. I suddenly remember the aim of my life practice, my art practice is inspired and an aspiration in doing the same to others. Guiding anyone that has gone astray, and pointing a finger towards the fundamental light of their own bright inner nature and supporting them in the walking towards it. the secret of the world, oil on wood, 16"x 20", 2014

       This show is fun. Everyday is something new. Im empty and open to it, being filled. It would be easy to arrive at a place of stress with the deadlines and all that I have to get done as curator and artist, having other projects hanging over me all at the same time. But I've existed in that way for too long and the conclusion what is the point to exist in such a way? Why miss out on the middles because I'm only concerned with the results of finishing. This show is about the heart. The metaphysical heart of passion, of intuition. So this weekend, one of the artists in the show, Michelangelo came by with a friend.The friend Sergio, is from Spain and though I thought they knew each other for a decent while, I was told it had been less than a week. Sergio brought a book that he had recently created in five months time, which was a beauty showcasing a world of imagined creatures in imagined environments and biology that he poured out. There were writings accompanying the images, and I would describe it as an artistic book of science and biology that was colorful, fun, and sexy. I was inspired by his passion and the results of finished labor that he exuberated. Even when he wrote his contact information for me, he did so colorfully. The three of us found ourselves at the Emerald Tablet, where my studio is as well as the Spirit Show will be exhibited. We gathered around a piano, where Sergio was playing Chopin like numbers while MIchelangelo and I talked. I got the idea to ask him ,"what is spirituality?", with the music in the background, and both he and Sergio nodded with excitement when I wished to record it. What followed is an excerpt in the video on this blog. It was a beautiful moment captured, unforced. Life had created the expression, and I simply mirrored it. Im trying to work with all art creation in this way. It is a leap, especially with deadlines which can kill the risk taking element, but what is their ultimately to lose? What is really threatened. All we can really do is try.... but i'm finding the way to be trying without trying. Letting go and allowing. The harmony resulting in a creation of art in this way is indescribable at best, but I will say it is bliss. Thus I'm seeing it as the way towards creation. Towards living. The next day Chessin, another artist in the show came by the studio. We haven't seen each other in a good while, so it was great to keep up. Mentioning earlier the lack of content that I experience in others, she is anything but. Our conversation had her sharing her recent life experiences of diving into life and all its mystery and rising to the surface with all she learned. She is fearless in this way and I feel the commadery in sharing the same practice. Of using this life given to us to better understand ourselves and this world we live in. Focusing on this spiritual aspect, life has become a magnet with the development of new relationships and situations that offer the seeds of further spiritual understanding. There is an element to this life that may not be able to be explained, but works in a certain as what I'm describing. The new age era uses catch phrases such as 'like attracts like', ' laws of attraction', etc. The truth is revealed in the experience always, and Im arriving at these truths. I wish the same to all.

         "Homage to the Tao", is a current finished painting that pays homage to the The Tao Te Ching and its author Lao Tzu. I have done a few other pieces paying the same homage, and the reason I continue to do so is that I've come to find its knowledge as a continuing source of spiritual knowledge. That knowledge of the indescribable aspect of that missing link of ourselves and the world we live in. The Tao is, excuse the phrase, but a guide to living in this manner. A superior guide that opens one up to one's self and the possibilities of the worlds realities in its mystery and uncertainty. For the spirit show, I have began building an installation to accompany the painting, intensifying the expression of the Tao's homage. More to come in process picks of the complete work, as well as further description of why the Tao. Homage to the Tao Te Ching, 16"x20", oil on wood, 2014

              Another piece for the upcoming spirit show, "homage to Chuang Tzu". Along with Lao Tzu, he is credited with the birth of Taoism. Taoism being a philosophy, that aims to express that ineffable experience that is at the source of our existence. Also posted are some pics of the unfoldings of the reality that I find myself in. The mysteries revealed to me. Everyday. This was yesterday.... Working on an installation for the upcoming Spirit Show, where I am building a homage to the Tao. Taking a break to swim in the ocean, I come across Hippy Dave. A living mystic that finds me in times of doubt, to bring me back to the truth with heart and serendepity. On shore we found ourselves talking to an Australian couple. Dave to the wife, I to the husband. I asked how he enjoyed the swim. In a heavy accent, and a heavier smile that said it all, he said he was training for the upcoming Golden Gate Bridge swim. He was turning 60, and it was a way to celebrate. I loved it. Dave and I left, and appeared at my studio, where I drank a cold IPA beer while he played guitar singing folk style songs about walking the spiritual path in the face of materialism. A few hours later I was taken by surprise by a new friend in the neighborhood that brought over whiskey and talked openly of his life. I was taken back, and even more so when he showed me some videos of his music. The spiritual undertones were clear, though the surface of them would have one thinking anything but. This was my experience with him. It is almost like a reincarnation of a realized monk that came into a drunkard artist's body. It was profound. haha. It truly was, for behind all the tattoos, the surf talk, the alcohol I experienced the heart of Jesus in front of me. Im convinced that he doesn't even know his authenticity in this way. If he did, maybe it wouldn't be authentic. Funny how things are sensitive in that way, and its hard for us to see it within ourselves. Any who, please experience this blog as more of a stream of conscious. More to come. And for this upcoming show, if you happen to be in San Francisco, it will take place at the Emerald Tablet with the opening on July 5th, and the show being up for the month of July. It is a group show that I am curating, working with a dozen or so other artists their expression of spirituality. More to come very soon on these comrades and the development of the show. Enjoy your experience... always!

homage to the TAO, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014

Expressions of the Tao, paying homage to the words, meanings, and spirit of the Tao Te Ching and it's author Lao Tzu. For myself, the discovery of the Tao Te Ching is more recent. I had come across it in previous years, but had no interest in sitting with its riddles of meanings. I blew it off entirely, and ironically if today I had a bible for which I devoted daily reading from, it would be the Tao. Actually, it isn't so ironic. The explanation is best done  with Carl Jung's theory of the Self and the ego. Using the symbol of a circle, Jung stated this was representative of the original/primordial self that we are all born with, into the world. A self that is born from unity in relating to the environment and all things in it. Over time however, a separate self which is termed the ego and represented by a dot at the center of the circle develops. The ego is the result of all types of conditioning, learning, that has one seeing separateness in all things in relation to it. When I was in this space of continuing development of the ego, it made sense that I would not relate to the Tao. During this period, I was more of an intellectual in how I sought the language of ideas, concepts, analysis, etc to understand myself and the world. I did see everything as separate, living and creating a future in living in the same manner. The goal was conventional, in being completive with the next superior in whatever I was desiring and working hard to be better so as to feel good about myself wether this was for acceptance, reward, security. And I did achieve a number of those things in all types of ways, and I identified with them deeply. This was the idea of myself that I believed to the point of arrogance to be true. To be real. But when the circumstances of true reality had challenged and wounded this idea of self and all that it encompassed, would I begin to make my way back from the center dot of the universe of my own mind, back towards the outer circle of the whole of reality… the original self. And this is where I found the Tao Te Ching. Or I should say this is where anything the Tao was communicating began to make any sense.
     Walking with a friend on the street, I asked his idea of love. I had recently been reflecting on my own and was astonished how it had changed so paradoxically. My idea of love before was defined by the center point, the ego, and was fundamentally dysfunctional in how it was a conditional idea based from a source of pain and related to another human thru expectation and obligation. I had the painful fortune of being intimate with another whose dysfunction was more extreme in this manner which at it's end became a mirror to my own. This mirror would lead me to explore love in the polar opposite,  from the original self which was without condition towards another. To be so vulnerable, so open and raw with another human with no expectation in return. What happened though was again a mirror, she had returned this just the same so naturally, effortlessly. I liked what I saw in the mirror was the difference this time. No, I loved what I saw. I had never been involved in such intimacy in my life outside of leaving the womb I must assumingly say. And getting back to my friend, his expression was conventional. It's nature was about feeding his ego, though his words and ideas were understood to him otherwise. Watching the downfall and the separation that lead to him and his ex was evident of this, just as it was evident in my own experience. Its almost as if there are two worlds, maybe more, maybe a lot more, that we exist with. More or less, the inner and the outer. The higher and the lower. How familiar we tend to be with one of these worlds more than the other. The outer world of the ego experience, that grows so unknowingly separate from everything. And when we grow so deeply into the tiny centers of a pinhead that finally pops, there is the unaltered aspect of our natural selves that has never left us that remains. And though this seemingly familiar yet foreign world that we begin walking back towards appears confusing in its irrationality, there is a map that can be a guide in support of understanding. Documented by an individual around 500 B.C., it remains of invaluable relevance towards the existence of that outer circle of ourselves that experiences the unity in all things, including the ego aspect of of the center. The ego of ourselves is 'the mother of the ten thousand names', and the egoless is the eternal. They both spring from the same source, only differing in name. This source for the sake of communication is known as the Tao. The transmission that came from the source that is beyond words and perhaps impossible to actually describe is known as The Tao Te Ching, and its transmitter Lao Tzu.
    Though I have created work in exploring, expressing the Tao Te Ching and or Lao Tzu, I found myself drifting away from it in recently daily living. What funner way to find my way back than to accompany the daily readings with drawings and excerpts of various chapters from it. Enjoy and best to you in finding your way back. And if these words make no sense now, there is a good chance they will in time. Regardless, enjoy the bliss of your experience. homage to the Tao #7, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014 homage to the Tao #8, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014 homage to the Tao #6, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014 homage to the Tao #5, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014 homage to the Tao #4, 5.5"x 8.5", ink on paper, 2014 homage to the Tao #2, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014 "Homage to the Tao 3", ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014

      "Spiritual nakedness, without masks, is far too stark to be useful. It strips life down to the root where life and death are equal, and this is what nobody likes to look at. But it is where freedom really begins: the freedom than cannot be guaranteed by the death of somebody else. The point where you become free not to kill, not to exploit, not to destroy, not to compete, because you are no longer afraid of death or the devil or poverty or failure. If you discover this nakedness, you'd better keep it private. People don't look. But can you keep it private? Once you are exposed… Society continues to do you the service of keeping you in disguises, not for your comfort, but its own.
This realization of the true self at the apex is a coincidence of all opposites, a fusion of freedom and unfreedom, being and unseeing, life and death, self and non-self, man and God.
    The danger of education, I have found, is that it so easily confuses means with ends. Worse than that, it quite easily forgets both and devotes itself merely to the mass production of uneducated graduates- people literally unfit for anything except to take part in an elaborate and completely artificial charade which they and their contemporaries have conspired to call "life"… If I had a message to my contemporaries, it was surely this: Be anything you like, be madmen, drunks, and bastards of every shape and form, but at all costs avoid one thing: success… What I am saying is this: the score is not what matters. Life does not have to be regarded as a game in which scores are kept and somebody wins. If you are too intent on winning, you will never enjoy playing. If you are too obsessed with success, you will forget to live. If you have learned only how to be a success, your life has probably been wasted. "

homage to Thomas Merton, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014

homage to Pema Chodron, ink on paper, 5.5"x8.5", 2014

      The above is a morning reflection, written in the manner of automatic writing more or less. It is not an issue of being correct or incorrect. Rather, looking. At one's self, and relating to the world. If anything, trying. That is all that we can do anyways. Is try. Whose to say anyways whether another is right or wrong. I find it more beneficial to work on one's own experience, rather than being so concerned with that of others in this way, Let the fruit of the existential experience alone be the measure in the discerning of what works and what doesn't, what makes sense to one and what does not. I find more and more inspiration from various sources in the understanding towards this existential path. One of those recent ones I keep coming back to, or I find coming to myself is Buddhism. There are many levels to this school of thought. The teacher, writer, Pema Chodron for example, I find inspiring in how her story is a detailed description of my words above in how one is living a lifestyle of convention that is typical in its forgetfulness of the deeper nature of being, but when it was shaken up the drive became to asking those questions that only the world beyond the 'self' can answer. She was in her second marriage in her mid thirties, when her husband stated he was going to divorce her to be with his mistress. Chodron would discover that he accumulated a number of mistresses over the years, and she was devastated of course by this and the foresight of divorce and having children I am sure as well. She was traumatized with overwhelming feelings that were hard for to manage. The ground had disappeared from under her feet, and so began the desperate search to get any type of ground back. Chodron dabbled in various schools of psychology, spirituality, etc. and it was an article by the Tibetan Rinpoche Chogyam Trungpa that would hold the potential for this ground that she would soon dedicate her life to eventually for the years to follow up to the present. The article was on 'Working with Negativity". In it Chogyam described the paradox of how negativity can be a powerful energy, that can lead to one's transformation for the better. And how the 'negative, negativity' is the experience of negativity that should be avoided, in how one conjures up ideas of blaming others, or seeing one's self as a victim, etc. This is the essence of what draws me to buddhism in how it has one working with what is available to one at all times. One's self, and the world one lives in. My understanding of culture has led me to it's opposite, in that it's constructs condition and influence the distancing with reality,  though portraying the image of what reality is.  And its when the reality pulls the ground from under, that we experience the emptiness of its eternal space. Let this piece be of even the smallest homage inspired by Chodron of the constant reminder we all need in a world of forgetfulness, to live each moment possible with awareness. To see the paradox of the world in how what we think is good for us tends to be bad for us, and vice versa. And to rise above both into the unconditional experience of the present moment of each passing second and be here with it all. "Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final."- Rainer Maria Rilke

            The following words, written into the drawing, are those of Chodron's from her book "When Things Fall Apart"... "The difference between theism and non-theism is not whether one does or does not believe in God. It is an issue that applies to everyone, including both Buddhists and non-Buddhists.Theism is a deep-seated conviction that there is some hand to hold: if we just do the right things, someone will appreciate us and take care of us. It means thinking there is always going to be a babysitter available when we need one. We all are inclined to abdicate our responsibilities and delegate our authority to something outside ourselves. Non-theism is relaxing with the ambiguity and uncertainty of the present moment without reaching for anything to protect ourselves. We sometimes think that dharma is something outside of ourselves, something to believe in, something to measure up to. However, dharma isn't a belief; it isn't a dogma.
It is total appreciation of impermanence and change. The teachings disintegrate when we try to grasp them. We have to experience them without hope. Many brave and compassionate people have experience them and taught them. The message is fearless; dharma was never meant to be a belief that we blindly follow. Dharma gives us nothing to hold on to at all. Non-theism is finally realizing that there is no baby sitter that you can count on. You just get a good one and then he or she is gone. Non-theism is realizing that it's not just babysitters that come and go. The whole of life is like that. This is the truth, and the truth is inconvenient…
Relaxing with the present moment, relaxing with
hopelessness, relaxing with death, not resisting the fact that things end, that things pass, that
things have no lasting substance, that everything is changing all the time, that is the basic message"

world of forms/formless world, watercolor/ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2014

Is this it? This what is all about mang? Eating, drinking, working, faucking... then what chico? Go to school, get a degree. Choose a career you don't really enjoy. Buy all kinds of things. Always the newest things. Get married. Have kids so they can live this way to. Get divorced. Start over againn. Cono! Retire. This what I worked for mang? Get old, have a faucking heart attack or something. Recover and wait around to be dead. This what is all about huh? This what I lived for?

The world is yours chico. The world is inside of you. Stop being a maricon, and start to live chico. Really live! Live for the nowww. Appreciate all that you have, here and now. You came into the world with nothing. You leave the world with nothing. So why, you spending all your time, always trying to have someting. Living like a haza, always wanting more. Maybe you already have, all that you will ever need in this life. You just haven't looked yet. So look chico. look.

love and loss, watercolor/ink on paper, 8.5"x 2.5", 2012

The piece finished, the experience however did not end there. I can't recall how it initially occured, but I would end up developing a connection with an individual across the globe in Australia. Elhi was mourning the sudden loss of her mother, and a connection manifested thru the piece created, as well as online chats we would have. The piece would exchange lives, from mine to hers, and though the communication has milded, the connection remains. This wasn't the first time a situation like this had occured, but the harmony experienced by its entirety has become clearer to myself and has become the ultimate inspiration so as to live fully, and to express from this fullness openly, honestly. The harmony is that of life and art integrated. Only semantics dividing them, the reality not. So this has become the process... living life with awareness, reflecting on the nature of the experience, creating an art piece mirroring this reflection back into the world in hopes of benefiting the life force of another. When I repeatedly express life itself as a miracle, this is the source from where such an attitude comes from.

     So much of the artist's path is of continued experimentation and exploration. I recently answered a college student from Georgia's question about my techniques of experimentation with watercolor. Outside of learning the language of painting and drawing during art school myself, I have never and still am not concerned with experimenting with the use of mediums. I do however experiment in other ways. Getting back to the episode that began this blog, with going thru the circumstance of being overpowered by feelings of hurt and betrayal by the ex, an aquaintance of mine confronted me in how I focus on the positive aspect of life so extremely. She suggested I explore the darkness and create from that place since that is the reality of the situation that I was in. So I did. It was a Sunday morning, and I had just left the couch of a friends place and was being picked up by a few friends to go hiking in nature. I had the conversation on the phone with the aforementioned acquaintance and though in a car with 4 friends, I couldn't be there completely with them. I was that much more overwhelmed by the thoughts, the emotions of not only processing the betrayal by the ex, but now by the drive to make art out of it. The car stopped at a light nearing downtown, and apologetically I told my friends that I couldn't do it today. I ran on the streets, perhaps looking a bit deranged, and made my way to the studio. I set up an artist's board with charcoal and drawing paper and walked away and sat under the sun... I sat with the pain but couldn't cry. Though I wanted to, for I felt so heavy inside. I would do a series of drawings without reference other than my own thoughts/feelings. Towards the end, I focused on one drawing and took a break to go outside. Still wanting to cry, I put a the hood of the sweater over my head, and the earplugs of my music in my ears and turned it up all the way. The song playing was John Lennon's "Mother". It wasn't the words of the song that hit me in that moment, it was the intensity of the vulnerable unrehearsed primal screams that were borderline melodic that had me balling in tears. The song is around 3 minutes, I must have lost myself in this manner for at least half of it. Though I found a quiet space in the dark, when the song finished I plugged my ears back into the real world only to look over my right shoulder and see a young individual remove his eye contact as if he had just been pointed out in a criminal line up. I wasnt embarrased however, I was liberated. I went back to the studio and finished the drawing. And getting back to experimentation, the drawing was a failure but a learned experience in the end. Upon completing the drawing, there was nowhere to take it. Unlike the above "love,loss" piece, this piece invited death not life. The nature of this piece was about a sick feeling I felt in my stomach, and art was a container to bring it out in. I didn't feel the will to invite such expression into anyone else's life. Though I continue to do such pieces, I keep those more to myself. There potential is more cathartic towards my own healing, so that I may cultivate the strength in attempting to make expressions that can perhaps add to the life force of the world, not take away from it.

          And so with this recent piece, the exploration, the experimentation continues. I've been working with hot pallettes, because orange, yellow, reds best express the nature of that which I have been focusing on. More spiritual oriented expressions. And so for fun, why not take it the other direction. So I began with blue, and allowed the reflection to arise from these colors as well. Learning from the trial and errors of the past, in relation to all that was mentioned in this blog writing of life, art, intention... this was the result. Human, all too Human is the title of a book by philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. The piece isn't about his ideas however, I've always liked the title, and used it as a reference point in the summation of this piece's spirit. The beauty of the unconditional human experience... enjoy

    The words written in "Human, All too Human"... -Human, all too human. To be afraid. To forget. To make mistakes. To struggle. To be confused. To lose soo much, to lose everything perhaps. To take accountability for the consequences of one's actions. To admit guilt. To experience pain. To suffer. To cry. To commit sin. To cope. To experience addiction. To hate. To lie, to cheat, to steal. To fall. Yet, it is in the humility of being open about such things when brought to the light  of awareness, that begins their resolution. . The resolution of so much that we deny in our experience resulting in an incomplete human experience, becomes wholesome . The denial of life becomes a distortion of ideas of what reality is, and the avoidance of experiencing reality directly is replaced with coping. No form of coping holds the power of contentment. Rather than liberation, one is slave to the external attachment of one's choosing. In the desperate search to replace the loss of one's inner half, everything outside one's self is manipulated to try and make it fit. But it never does, and we experience this over and over when we lose that, whatever it maybe time and time again. Yielding to the fear however, taking the leap, even a little one, the hidden nature is revealed as the heaviest release as if shedding the weight of one's entire body and walking forward in great strides effortlessly. Everything falls in its place so easily as if puzzle pieces rained from the sky forming complete images of the world in their consolidation. Dark turns to light in all things. The world has transformed in a complete reversal. Burden becomes purpose. Vulnerability becomes strength. Struggle becomes appreciation. Death becomes life. Life is seen with eyes wide open as if waking up from a coma, almost as if seen for the first time. So clear, so fresh. Life is received as the greatest gift, and the gift is opened by living it unconditionally for it's wholeness. As a complete human, one never feel the need to apologize for how one lives. It is the incomplete human, that finds him/herself apologizing . Apologizing to themselves for missing so much of what was hidden for so long, to themselves. And so when it is revealed, open the entirety of yourself without a single doubt to it.

human all too... 9"x 12", watercolor/ink on yupo, 2014

Having arrived in Detroit, Michigan almost 3 months ago, I unknowingly would be living in the most severe winter here since the early 20th century from what the locals describe. It has snowed nearly every single day for these last few months. Part of me being here, is the exploration of throwing myself into reality and working with it. There were various fingers pointing to this place, and I simply followed. There is always that initial fear, doubt in making ones self vulnerable to such uncertainty, yet that is the whole point. And more often than not, the mind's dysfunction is revealed if one go beyond thought and experience the action. Its not the doing that makes so much difficult, its the thinking of doing. After being here, the experiences that have presented themselves... it all makes sense in a perfect, indescribable way. Not without challenge of course. Coming from San Francisco, where I had my practice of swimming in the bay as a spiritual discipline, biked thru the city for inspiration, participated in social circles on the regular, and so on... my life would go from complete activity to that of near hibernation. Due to the snow here, I have been forced to be indoors most of the time. On the occasional social gathering, conversation tends to relate to the severity of the weather and the 'winter depression' that results from it. Yet it again however, this is an opportunity for inner work. To not demand condition of the place I find myself in, but to find its treasure. The treasure I found in being with it. And when the sun begins to melt away the snow, I will find the treasure in that as well. The goal is to not experience reality via condition, rather unconditionally.

             Excited that it had finally stopped snowing and the temperature above the 30's, comrade Emilee and I excitingly drove over to a nature park in Troy, Michigan. The snow had not melted, but the fact that we could even walk around without feeling the punishment of the wind chill was relieving. We walked around tall trees buried in snow with the smell of maple all around. And half way thru we found a spot and meditated. We closed our eyes and tuned our being, in harmony with the present world. When coming to again, it was as if the spotlight of the world had been turned on. The colors vibrant, the tiniest sounds intense, the firmness of the ground so inviting. Being in nature invites this intense presentness. Mediation is the vehicle to ride in the passenger seat taking it all in on like a tourist in a foreign, exotic land that gives no other joy than experiencing all that is within it. The trick is to carry this same spirit outside of the nature park, into as many as life's situations as possible. Whether waiting in line at the post office, purchasing a coffee from the local barista, driving to work, etc. To invoke that same passion of participation with whatever is offered. I shipped a painting for a show in Maryland this morning, and the worker was rude. She was uninterested in helping me. While she rolled her eyes, lost patience with my slow demeanor, and so on, I was present with her. Not analytically, emotionally but just intensely with her. The make up on her cheeks, the number of black pearls on her ring, the crows feet in the corner of her eyes, the various subtle tones of make up sloppily applied on the lips and bled to the skin around it, the gradation in blonde hair with dark roots, and on and on. I enjoyed being there. I was a little stressed with her pressure applied demands, but I was with my stress too. All done with direct eye contact and gentleness. Though it didn't happen here, I've been in  such situations before where my devotion to presence had an affect on the other party. Its almost as if they became aware suddenly of the lack of theirs and saw the fun of it and joined in. I feel this tends to occur when that pattern is broken where one party is dependent on the reaction of another, but when the other party creates with spontaneity rather than predictable reaction, does a shift occur. I can remember a situation with a police officer yelling at me, where I went to him right after, made eye contact, only for him to yell at me more. When I spoke, though with a shaky voice, I took full responsibility for what I had done, apologized, and ended with the inquiry as to why the need to yell at me with such aggression. He looked stumped, removed his eye contact and parted ways. Im sure he would have new how to react if I had reacted in any number of ways. But unscripted, a creative response was demanded though not met.  The power of presence is so relative with so much of this life experience. Without it, its as if one misses out on the experience of life itself. Fundamentally, presence is so easily accessible, yet it is so easily missed. Test it in your next conversation. Is the other person present? Or are they distracted. Distracted by thoughts, emotions, what others are thinking? More importantly one's self. Are you present? Are you aware of the time, the season... while you're in its pulsating center?

         This piece was inspired by recently visiting the Detroit Zen Center. Though I don't identify with being a buddhist, I continue to learn so much from the Buddha's teachings. It was a beautiful experience to be in the presence of this community, though only once so far, and sit in meditation with them. Whether inside the temple, or outside of it, the commitment is to cultivate the ability to be deeply aware of the constant occuring reality, and to live fearlessly in it. Sometimes this mediation takes the form of a seated posture, sometimes it is on foot. Regardless of the time or the place, the devotion is to live in it's center. Or as it says at the entrance of the Detroit Zen Center, " Bring only your open heart, leave everything else behind... transcend the human world and realize your true nature." -Sunim. Enjoy

"Inner World", oil on wood, 8" x10", 2014

human headpiece, watercolor on yupo, 9"x12", 2014

         This painting, "human being", will be on exhibition alongside other talents at Modern Eden Gallery San Francisco, opening March 8th. For more information please visit  moderneden.com. Thank you for visiting.

primordial nature, ink on paper, 8.5"x 10", 2014

I love meeting new people. I love being present with every type of individual and listening to their story. Past, present, future. Much of the art that I create is the result of constant life experience, especially as the result of being with people. So thank you, for the inspiration to all those that I come in contact with. For being who you are at that given moment in time. There is no judgement on this side, only appreciation. These expressions tend to be more or less the commonality that forms as subject matter for a drawing, writing, painting, etc. Just another page added in the exploration of the human condition. Enjoy

Let's look into the nature of ourselves. Let us look at ourselves as if we were an outsider to ourselves, looking at a distance in nonjudgmental observation. Underneath it all, what will we arrive at? Let's look into the nature of our actions, our ambitions, our goals, our relationships with all things. This is not a practice of psycho-analysis. This is not about deconstructing one's self and piecing it all back together. This is simple honesty. In the most basic sense. Will we however have the courage to extend this honesty to ourselves? It is worthwhile to do so for life will bring one back to this place of self confrontation over and over. Its as if we are running from something, yet no matter how far the distance we always end up at that initial starting point. This is the juxtaposition of the inner and outer position of our being. So much of life management is dedicated to external participation. Somehow however, we find ourselves disoriented when life shakes up the external worlds we create. The disorientation is that we don't often know how to deal with the situation internally. We cope, we run, but we don't often deal with that broken world. We move towards recreating the next one. Why not rid the juxtaposition of inner and outer, and harmonize the two? The world seems so backwards in the nature of this juxtaposition of inner and outer, where with the outer will the inner be given life. But the harmony exists in the opposite. From giving life to the inner, does the outer flourish. This is like a seed planted in the earth, growing from the ground up into a blossoming flower. How beautiful when we experience our lives in this way. How when we exist from the heart, we sometimes find ourselves spotlit on a stage receiving standing ovation of encouragement from the universe's applause. We win the prize without manipulating the world we live in. We work in accordance with the world itself. Existing from the heart is relating to the world via that metaphysical aspect of ourselves. A deep trust in basic goodness of the world is placed, and one opens one's self to the possibilities, the mysteries. This is the boundless experience of reality. Yet how we tend to exist from the mind and limit ourselves to the potential of reality in this way. Existing from the mind is like walking on the street and thinking each step before the next. The walk becomes stressful, exhausting, and thoughts often lead to negative foresights of what may exists at the end leading to the point of sitting on the couch to avoid walking at all. What suffering… yet how we tend to live our lives in this manner. Always thinking, doubting, rationalizing, intellectualizing. How much nicer to feel the bottom of the earth under one's feet with each step, and take in the weather of the air depending on the geographical location and time of day. Appreciating life for life. Grateful and aware of life itself. Aware that I have eyes to take in the full spectrum of the world's color wether by nature or manmade, that I have ears to hear the orchestra of sounds whether the complex collaboration of a city or the quite stillness of a rural town. That I have a tongue to taste the ingredients of infinite flavors of desire. Life is beautiful. Life is not made beautiful, in that it was created to meet conditions making it so. No, life is experienced unconditionally, as is. Life is beautiful in that it is experienced as it is with gratitude and awareness. And from the beginning, in our most basic primordial state, I can only imagine how such appreciation was natural. But years went by, and things changed with life experience and the seed that began to grow uprooted somehow reversed like the nature of an ingrown hair. So taking a time out, and giving ourselves space and looking at ourselves as an outsider. Will we see the ambitions, actions, relation towards all things with ourselves as uprooting or downrooting?

Change is rarely met without the struggle of moving forward. Change, when it occurs with anything that we place high value on. Especially when it involves that vulnerable aspect of ourselves, the human heart. I'm discussing human relationships of intimacy in particular. The communion of 2 lovers and the separation that at some point inevitably follows. Inevitably, because even if there is complete unified harmony between 2 people, no one is acception to the law of impermanence. Death. Myself, I went thru the process yet again of being in an intimate relationship only to have it end after 5 years. I have experienced loss before, in various forms, but nothing quite seems to compare to the pain as when making myself vulnerable to another human being and then parting ways. The physical, emotional withdrawal at the end is not without tremendous difficulty. Never is one so alive in an autonomous way, where even a molecule of dust on the skin is met with intensive sensitivity. The world has opened up, and it is overwhelming. The heart is exposed and ever does it hurt. Paradoxically, what a powerful place to be in. Of course, this is easier expressed in hindsight. It was only a little more than a year ago, that I could not go a day without crying, vulnerable to nostalgic thoughts that brought up fierce emotions that would have me drift away regardless of what was occuring in the reality of that given moment. The paradox is that behind the pain, exists the potential to not only heal, but to experience such deep realization of ourselves. One has to experience the pain however, walk thru it like walking thru a wall of fire. And walking thru this wall will burn badly, however, the fire is not real and will not singe one's skin. It will hurt nonetheless, and though it may not feel this way, know that you will not die from this yielding. Our thoughts and emotions may overpower us with intensity, but they can not kill us like an actual fire can. And only when walking thru, will this intimidating fire of fierceness be transformed into a transparent crystal body of water of bliss which we swim in towards our healing. Culturally, we are not taught how to deal with ourselves when we experience this separation, the breaking of attachment with a loved one. We cope, we deny, we blame, distract ourselves often thinking the hands of time will heal. We run away from the pain. We run away from ourselves. We run away from our healing. And this becomes the pattern for death when it raises its head in all aspects of our existence. We spend our whole lives running away. Yet, if we look at this situation when it arises, as it will, over and over in various forms, perhaps we will see the paradox of it. And so be inspired to stop running away, and start running towards ourselves. And perhaps there will be a contentment, an inner peace that is familiar, though years forgotten, that we exhaustingly devote so much time and action towards externally, yet never able to find. And perhaps in this realization, the contentment acutualized is the result that there is no place left to go.

   To my brother Christopher who is in that process of separation. Nothing but love to you and the continued path of self realization and victory. You are a beautiful man. Do know this, and an expression shared to you from the words of Thomas Merton... "In actual fact, conventions are the death of real tradition as they are of all real life. They are parasites which attach themselves to the living organism of tradition and devour all its reality, turning it into a hollow formality.
      Tradition is living and active, but convention is passive and dead. Tradition does not form us automatically: we have to work to understand it. Convention is accepted passively, as a matter of routine. Therefore, convention easily becomes an evasion of reality. It offers us only pretended ways of solving the problems of living - a system of gestures and formalities. Tradition really teaches us to live and shows us how to take full responsibility for our own lives. Thus tradition is often flatly opposed to what is ordinary, to what is mere routine. But convention, which is a mere repetition of familiar routines, follows the line of least resistance. One goes through an act, without trying to understand the meaning of it all, merely because everyone else does the same. Tradition, which is always old, is at the same time ever new because it is always reviving - born again in each new generation, to be lived and applied in a new and particular way. Convention is simply the ossification of social customs. The activities of conventional people are merely excuses for NOT acting in a more integrally human way. Tradition nourishes the life of the spirit; convention merely disguises its interior decay.”

    There is an eternal wisdom of the world that is not limited to, but more familiar to us in spiritual writings/teachings passed down for generations that exist somewhere in all cultures that unifies the nature of us all, beyond the words that only exist to communicate their meanings. It was in my place of nakedness, humility, and pain that I opened my heart to it's transmition. In this way, I feel blessed for the pain bestowed upon me, just as much as the bliss, the love that preceeded it .And please do not mistake these words as religious born again whatever, this is the expression of the realization of genuine human beingness, on the most basic, fundemental level of experiencing the world as it is, as a human. Such an example of that eternal world's wisdom, I feel, can be experienced in the words of Thomas Merton. The following drawing is paying homage to him, and his words and the writing below are excerpts of his writings which I have also incorporated into the piece. Enjoy and best to you.. always.

homage to Thomas Merton, ink on paper, 8.5" x 10", 2014

“Do not depend on the hope of results. You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself. You gradually struggle less and less for an idea and more and more for specific people. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationship that saves everything.”
"You do not need to know precisely what is happening, or exactly where it is all going. What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith and hope.”
The logic of worldly success rests on a fallacy: the strange error that our perfection depends on the thoughts and opinions and applause of other men! A weird life it is, indeed, to be living always in somebody else's imagination, as if that were the only place in which one could at last become real!”
“The greatest need of our time is to clean out the enormous mass of mental and emotional rubbish that clutters our minds
“Pride makes us artificial; humility makes us real”
"We have the choice of two identities: the external mask which seems to be real...and the hidden, inner person who seems to us to be nothing, but who can give himself eternally to the truth in whom he subsists."
"The solution of the problem of life is life itself. Life is not attained by reason and analysis but first of all by living.”
“The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little.”
"The question of love is one that cannot be evaded. Whether or not you claim to be interested in it from the moment you are alive you are bound to be concerned with love because love is not just something that happens to you: It is a certain special way of being alive. Love is in fact an intensification of life a completeness a fullness a wholeness of life.”
"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone we find it with another.”
"We live on the brink of disaster because we do not know how to let life alone. We do not respect the living and fruitful contradictions and paradoxes of which true life is full.”
"This act of total surrender is not merely a fantastic intellectual and mystical gamble; it is something much more serious. It is an act of love for this unseen person, who, in the very gift of love by which we surrender ourselves to his reality also makes his presence known to us.”
"Words stand between silence and silence: between the silence of things and the silence of our own being. Between the silence of the world and the silence of God. When we have really met and known the world in silence, words do not separate us from the world nor from other men, nor from God, nor from ourselves because we no longer trust entirely in language to contain reality.”
"A man who fails well is greater than one who succeeds badly.”
"In actual fact, conventions are the death of real tradition as they are of all real life. They are parasites which attach themselves to the living organism of tradition and devour all its reality, turning it into a hollow formality.

Tradition is living and active, but convention is passive and dead. Tradition does not form us automatically: we have to work to understand it. Convention is accepted passively, as a matter of routine. Therefore, convention easily becomes an evasion of reality. It offers us only pretended ways of solving the problems of living - a system of gestures and formalities. Tradition really teaches us to live and shows us how to take full responsibility for our own lives. Thus tradition is often flatly opposed to what is ordinary, to what is mere routine. But convention, which is a mere repetition of familiar routines, follows the line of least resistance. One goes through an act, without trying to understand the meaning of it all, merely because everyone else does the same. Tradition, which is always old, is at the same time ever new because it is always reviving - born again in each new generation, to be lived and applied in a new and particular way. Convention is simply the ossification of social customs. The activities of conventional people are merely excuses for NOT acting in a more integrally human way. Tradition nourishes the life of the spirit; convention merely disguises its interior decay.”

cell therapy, 8.5"x 11", ink on paper, 2014
oh how we get in the way of ourselves and we miss out. So often, what is available to us all the time. Right in front of us. Oh how we live our lives as if what is in front of us is a hinderance to get somewhere else. All the time. Always doing, always thinking, always planning, preparing… always missing. Missing what is in front of us, yet we fail to see it as if we didn't have eyes. We are labeled as human beings ironically, ironically because we have lost the ability of being. We unknowingly exist so uncomfortable in our minds, and it is mirrored in our body. In our postures, our body language, our use of language, our lack of presence in relationship to anyone or anything. We miss out. We have deserted the post of our being. We have deviated from the line drawn from the center of ourselves and tied to the the world. We have grown heavy in lifestyles of obligation, neuroses, and coping and have fallen off the tight rope. We have grown afraid of the nature of the world we live in.. we have grown afraid of our own nature.We wear masks of identity, and change these when the nature of reality and its impermanence forces our hand. We have grown to be dependent on the existence of others, dependent on their thoughts of who we are. Of what we should be, of how we should live. We have lost our self reliance natured in the independence of our individual being. The being that was given to us at birth. We have compromised its sacred integrity for security. For fear. For a living death. And yet, the beauty at the center of all of this is we can always return. To our being. It follows us till our grave like a shadow, even if we fail to see it at all. And like taking an antibiotic for an infection's cure, mediation is that resource that restores one's absent participation with being. With it's cultivation, it's function all the self created distractions are removed. So once can participate with reality directly again. Life is no longer experienced with hesitation, with prejudice, with conceptions, ideas, conditionally. Gone is all that. Life is experienced for all that it is , unconditionally, for all that it can , and ever will be. An intuitive experience of a present moment, occurring constantly. A life lived in being. In being a full participant. The path to the complete human experience.

     In the nature of mind, life is experienced fully. For in the nature of mind, the whole of life is seen and so is experienced willingly. The whole of life being the unity of birth and death. And when looking into the nature of all things in the universe, this can be seen at its essence. The manifestation of anything (birth) is experienced with joy, excitement, passion, love. And at it's inevitable ending (death), so is it just as fully experienced in its sadness, pain, mourning. In this way, harmony ensues with the nature of mind and the nature of reality. For the nature of reality is one of impermanence. All things existing in the universe change. The nature of mind yields to this constancy, experiencing things just as they are. Experiencing them for their true inherit nature, not thru any idea that one may create about reality. The nature of mind is simple in this way. It is simply being. Being in the here and the now. Life is experienced unconditionally in this way. Life's unfolding second by second is not experienced thru pre-concepts, opinions, prejudice, any mental constructs of reality including thoughts of the past and/or the future. Thru the nature of mind, a trust in the world and one's place in it is exercised. The experience is one of ineffability, for it is just that.. direct experience not thought of experience. Behind all the conditioning, behind all the learned knowledge… behind the ego exists the nature of mind. No matter how long dormant, it has always existed and always will. The nature of mind is the primordial mind. It is inherit to us all from birth. It is our root of origin. Its nature is like the sky… boundless and spacious. And like the sky itself where dark clouds of neurotic thoughts and emotions may have it hidden in the background, it still remains. And thru holes in these clouds of unconscious forgetfulness do we experience glimpses of conscious wakefulness. The nature of mind is consciousness, it is wakefulness.  Vast, infinite consciousness… and in this vastness one experiences the world not from the microscopic perspective of one's 'self' independent from the universe and all things in it, rather one realizes the interdependence of all things and exists in accordance with them. In this realization, empathy is experienced and the realization is of the nature of mind as the compassionate mind. And it is here that one comes across nature's law of karma. In the interconnectedness of all things, one becomes sensitive to how even a thought alone sends ripples into the phenomenal world of one's surrounding. And in this sensitivity does the awareness to live responsibility exercising intention (cause) so as to navigate the direction of ones life and so live in harmony with the universe (affect) cultivate. Management of life outwardly has turned, inwardly realizing the nature of mind. And this inner management is applied in all experiences thru awareness. The awareness that bridges ones inner being and the external world. Thru awareness, one takes all experience to one's nature of mind, so as to better one's self and become of benefit to other's and the world. And thru the crossing of this bridge does one arrive at that ultimate destination, where if one is to look deepest into the nature of all that we spend our life resources always doing, working towards, desiring, dreaming of from wake to sleep, from the cradle to the grave… that which at the core of this human experience underneath all appearances that we all share… the experience of inner peace, happiness, bliss, contentment. One's highest achievement realized. Actualized. Always, so close to us centered in the nucleus of our hearts, though we find ourselves time and time again so distant from it, lost, confused in our outward struggle to attain it… we arrive back to that initial starting point of our life destination thus far… arriving at the nature of our minds.

Nature of Love, oil on canvas w/acrylic, 36"x 36", 2013

I've experienced both sides of the coin… i've manipulated another, i've been manipulated. I controlled another, I've been controlled. I've been the abuser, I've been the abused. Jealous, insecure, and conditional. I've been the one with power, I've been powerless. I've been loved by another while not loving myself, and I've loved another while she didn't love herself. I've given. I've taken. I've hurt another deeply. I've been hurt by another deeply. I've made threats with ultimatum's. I've been threatened by ultimatum's… All in the name of love. The emptiness of these experiences as a whole, has led me to the question… "This is Love?". Like so much of what we as a collective define as reality, love is another example that i am concluding as being far from thereof…
    I've grown up in a world that has conditioned me in the various aspects of life that as a society we hold of high value, thru societal constructs such as schooling and media. There are the peers, and the family even that tending to be influenced by these constructs as well, become simply part of it in shaping the blank slate of any individual growing up in it's environment. There is always that potential however, for one to take responsibility for themselves in the way of questioning it all. Going behind all the learned knowledge and re-defining how one see's the world. This re-defining comes from not only direct experience with anything, but with awareness. Awareness is what exists behind the stored collection of all that has been gained in memory. Behind the ego. This art piece is an expression of this re-defining. It is from the realization of what love wasn't/isn't  thru the direct experience of intimate relationships, that has me arriving at a realization of what love perhaps is. From the learned idea of "love", to the realization of 'The Nature of Love".  Though the realization is perhaps bottomless, this is where I have arrived at it at this point in time. A surprising realization for myself is how in the words to the piece i write "love is like the sun and it's rays illuminating all things, unselectively." I once viewed love as something with strict boundaries, now Im experiencing it as completely boundless. And it is with the heart as the indicator with it's uplifting fullfillment, that has me devoted, defining love as the latter… The following are the words in the piece…   
    Love is formless. It is boundless. It is experienced. Ineffable. And when we begin to give it shape, we begin to take ourselves away from it. For love shapes us. And it is in trust that we allow it to do so. And from this trust, we find ourselves uplifted. Above it all. In our ignorance we hide our love underneath layers of mental thoughts and emotions. And we confuse love with these thoughts and emotions. And our love becomes conditional in this manner. As long as the world outside ourselves feeds these thoughts, these emotions, we love. And when it doesn't, we take our love away. But this is not in the nature of love. For love is not conditional. Love is not outside one's self. Love is a body whose heart is contentment. Love is like the sun and it's rays illuminating all things, unselectively. Love is energy. It is the blood that pumps the heart giving the body motion. It is the passion that has one fearlessly opening up to the world. Love is not lip service. It is not an "I love you". It is unspoken. It is felt. It is in the moment. It is an internal smile. Love is surrender. Surrender to the hearts will to experience directly, openly the nowness of the world's constancy. Love is non-dualistic. It doesn't flee at the moment of loss. It yields to loss willingly and experiences the pain with love just as intensely as it did so in the beginning with gain. Love is wholesome in this way. It is the complete experience. Experienced it is the complete human. Love is not fear. And fearing the pain experienced at loss, and denying it, one will never feel complete. And in this denial, one may try to find this completeness outside one's self, but one will only suffer in doing so. For love is harmony in the interdependence of all things working together. Love is not manipulating the universe to work for it. This is the illusion that we mistake as the world we live in. This is our illusion of love when experience the emotions in the attainment of all that we work so technically towards. But it's when these illusions fall, as does that heartfelt enthusiasm that was attached to it, is our love tested. And how it often fails in this way, where the face our 'love' reveals itself in was a revelation of fear. Love is a gift. Given and received. Given, it is making one's self vulnerable to the world. Raw, open, exposed in complete tenderness without skin. Received, it is allowing another to be genuinely human. Fully embracing another wholly, in this spotlight of nudity, beyond acceptance, transparent to the shadows of shame. Love is honesty in this way, love is simple in this way… seeing the world as it truly is and and fearlessly wrapping one's arms around it like a mother holding it's newborn bringing it's fragile body to one's heart. Love is a warm kiss that expresses it's indescribable nature. It is a first kiss, like taking a leap into a body of water from up high, one know not how one will land, one not know if one will make it back to shore. Love is the leap, not the thought of leaping. Love is empathy. It is the transcendence of self, experiencing the world from another. Love is at the center of it all. Holding it all in place. It is like the infinite black space of the universe , empty in nature, but filled with the planets, suns, moons, and stars. Love is unity. Man, woman, child. Love is spaciousness. It is the floor of the earth that has a space for all, beyond age, gender, creed, and title. It is the sky above that the clouds pass in, that the sun rises and sets in. Love is the answer that we desperately search for in all our actions. Wether going to the pub or going to the temple. It is the communion of mind, body, spirit uplifted to it's climatic peak that has us like an out of body experience where one is soaring in the sky. It is like a spasm where one is jerked intensely into the moment, void of any suffering, void of the self. Like at the moment of orgasm. Love is the foreplay that leads one to this peak as well. Love is the restfulness that follows as well that has one glowing in an exhaustion of bliss. When love is expressed physically, know that it is love if one is glowing. Love is the glow, whose light is the hidden god inherit to us all, whose universal sacred being when we pay heed to, devote our existence to,  worship, illuminates all aspects of our lives, internally then externally liberating us from our individual suffering and healing the world of it's neglect giving the roots of life nourishment with every passing step, flourishing the planet with rich nature, tending to it's garden and leaving it more beautiful than it was when one was first delivered into it.
     
 

paying heed to Epicurus, ink (gold, black) on paper, 8.5"x 10", 2013

The cultivation of a practice. We all experience difficult times in our lives. Times where we suddenly find the rug pulled from under our feet, and in this moment is life ever so raw, so direct. One is intensely alive, and deeply aware of it. And yet how how we are so desperate to flee from this place when it opens up. It is perhaps the most terrifying place to be, like an existential vacuum whose force feels as if we are being sucked into the void of an empty abyss. Perhaps this is scary to us because it is the arena of our ultimate confrontation. That confrontation with ourselves. And perhaps the terror comes from having no idea of who we truly are. Underneath all appearances. Especially when all those appearances that defined us vanish and become nothing more than sentimental memories. We lose the worlds that we build over and over again in this way. Finding life to be nothing more than a pattern where we are so vulnerable to all that is the closest things to ourselves, outside of ourselves. However, a shift occurs in all of this when we halt and rest in that space that opens up between loss and before gain. And in that shift, things reverse. From the outside in. We no longer lose the world's we build, but those worlds lose us. We no longer lose what we gain, but gain from what we lose. We become less afraid of the world when we begin to become less afraid of ourselves, thru the realization of our true selves. Our true nature. Weakened is the conditional relationship with things. Inviting only the 'good', and denying the 'bad'. Life is experienced as a whole. Life is experienced as its richest potential. The fearlessness to live in the world cultivating as we go deeper within our being, walking thru our egos and arriving at our tender hearts. And it is here we recognize the basic goodness of ourselves, hidden underneath all the layers of shame, guilt, conditioning and mental constructs. It is here that we arrive at the root of ourselves, that pulses intensely with every nerve of our being. The lightest breath of air on its surface can be felt in the loudest volumes thru out our entire being, erecting us into that awakened state. And so again, in that space of misfortune, where life is so open and raw, when the nerve is exposed to the surface. Let us yield to the pain bringing our deepest fortune from its root to the surface, breaking it, exposing it and letting it blossom into the sky like nature of our entire universe. Maybe it is here that we finally find that ineffable completion in our existence, that we exhaust ourselves lost and confused in the pattern of gain and loss, searching for, grasping to, seduced by in the outer appearances that we create in our individual universes.

"Primordial Birth", 9"x12", ink on paper, 2013

Arriving into this world empty, how we fill ourselves with pain accumulating it into a body itself by the time we are adults. And never is this pain-body so present as in our relationships with other human beings. We become not only the recipients of others, but the pain projectors as well… existing from the deep seeds of pain often unknown.  Year after year, how we drift from our origins in this way. Drift from that primordial state that we are born into as little human beings, so blissed out in experiencing the world for the first time. The shapes, the colors, the sounds…. We were natural, in harmony with nature. Transparent, filling ourselves like an empty cup with a hole in its bottom. But then there was the pain, and how we cupped the bottom and found ourselves full. And this filled cup is the testament to the suffering we carry with us. And yet that primordial state so natural in us, though hidden, is always available to us. We simply need to see it behind the confusion of appearances. It is like the spaciousness of the sky itself, hidden behind the grey clouds of our suffering. Our pain body is like a corpse that we carry around. It is that part of us that must die, die unto ourselves so that we may move on. So that we may live again. And what better place to reflect from, than from when we were children as we all once were. Liberated from the prison of our ignorance and suffering yet to come. And with mindfulness do we realize the opportunity to walk from our cell. And not only are we liberated from the pain-body of ourselves, but empathy arises and we begin to see the inner child in others. Broken is the cycle of suffering in relationships, where we act from that place of pain. Not only removing our projection onto others, but becoming transparent in the face of aggression casted by others. Whether its the stranger on the street that pushes you aside out of a false sense of entitlement, the lover that abandons you naked and alone in humility, the parent that neglected you… with awareness you see not an adult that lies, cheats, steals but a child that is hurt, that is afraid. And the empathy runs deeper in this space, where one experiences one's self, for one was once in that same place. And so compassion is born from the realization of interdependence among all things.  All holding the same potential to awaken to ourselves. And the cycle of aggression is broken in no longer meeting aggression with aggression, but rather with compassion in inspiring another to awaken to one's self as so has he/she. And this awakening is seeing the world for the first time… again and again. Though no longer a child, experiencing life as a constancy of mystery and miracle as we once did as childrenq. Experiencing life in that natural, primordial state. 

karma police

"Homage to the 'Thinker'", watersoluble oil on wood panel, 11" x 14", 2011

to think about the possibility itself. How much of a betrayal to one's self is it, if one is to allow another to determine how one lives? Isn't it integrity that is that collection of ideas, values, principles that we have sacred within ourselves, how we would like to live this limited existence. Yet, do you feel that to live, you must compromise this integrity? And if this collection of and value and principle is influenced/built around those existing out the core of the culture one lives in, won't this person have a better life since his/her's and the worlds' integrity are in harmony? How many of us, or people we know that feel this harmony, rather than conflict within ourselves. Perhaps this is what a utopia would be. And this is just a thought. And the the more I think about it, the more absurd it seems to be… how thought seems to be subjective, non-absolute. How one can validate any idea based on his/her personal belief system. Still, I celebrate thought. Because I look at history and look at the power of thought and all that it has done. And I look at thought today, and how it's power is being used, There are those who think (knowledge) and those who don't think (ignorance) and those who think, think for those who don't think. So I would rather think for myself and this is dedicated to those past, present that have done/do the same.
    This is dedicated to those who think. Not just any thinker. But those who use the potential of thought to question all that was, is and/or may be. Those whose thoughts earn them the existence of an individual, by default, because their thoughts have led them astray from the herd mentality which shares predictable collective thoughts, thought by others. Indoctrination, dogma. Those who dare to think , going beyond a present day 'practical' way of living. Asking questions that concern all though, all often dare not to ask. Questions that since having been first asked and still being asked today, that only answer still has no answer are being continued by those that think. Life's meaning, is death the end, questioning reality, 'god', how to live, who am i? and so on and so on. Whether a certified philosopher, an unschooled blue collar made fun of by friends/family for being too deep, a scholar from the past, whose thoughts live on thru books, a student that braved the choice of dedicating that part of adult education of their life to a field built around thought, yet having little opportunity to be financially secure in the world… Thank you. I can only speak of the time we live in and it is my thought that the lack of thought is what keeps that dismal part of this culture productive. Isn't it that opposite of thought, lack of thought..ignorance! that unawareness that keeps a harmful situation going if a person/persons are unaware of the harm. Ethics. Isn't it humbling to think of incidents from your past and how you didn't know any better. And now, with this thought alone how you can not only not repeat the past since you now know, but now you can apply this same knowledge to the future of your life. Simply by thinking. By understanding yourself, by understanding others, by understanding your surroundings, the immediate as well as the bigger world you are living in. Responsibility, consciousness. And it all begins with thought.

nature of heart, watersoluble oil on wood wine box, 10"x 16", 2013

The raw tender human heart. Let us embrace it. celebrate it. Expose it. Let us make ourselves vulnerable to the world. No longer ashamed of our tenderness. No longer ashamed of our truest nature. Let us break the social contract that has us hiding behind appearances. Hiding from ourselves. Let the heart breathe… let the hearts pulse vibrate to the frequency of nature, and experience complete harmony with the entire universe. Let the hearts chambers of intuition, creativity, spontaneity, be the compass that navigates our lives. Let us surrender to the hearts potential of relating to all things in the phenomenal world on its spectrum from love to pain… exercising the complete human experience. Let the open heart be the key to the gates of the true nature of freedom, love, eternity. And let us allow ourselves to walk thru fearlessly, naked with open arms, heart fully exposed… walking the path of a life lived without regret, a life lived from every seconds end with wakefulness. Mindfulness. Awareness. Let us attain that which we spend so much energy, time, resources looking for outside ourselves, within the heart… contentment. Let the human heart be the root of our being, that we nurture causing all other aspects of our life to blossom. And upon discovering the deepest love for ourselves, let us go deeper into the nature of our tender heart and discover its interdependence with all other things. And upon deeper realization, let the hearts empathy fill the empty gaps we experience in others with the hearts blood of compassion. Let our heart be the sun that illuminates the darkness of the the world with it's infinite rays of penetrating beams. And though in the face of darkness, the magnitude of human suffering may seem bottomless, let us have full devotion towards the human heart's power, strength, and potential of being boundless.

me listening to Whale Song at the beach as i prepare for a sunrise swim

Genevieve, creator of "The Whale Song"

Tyler the jazz piano virtuoso

process pic of early stage

The nature of music... our favorite songs that nourish our metaphysical appetite. The musical experience is a direct one. Within seconds once can be instantly transformed. The full range of human experience, expressed in a universe of musical compositions. Love, loss, pain, joy... wherever one is at in one's experience, there is a song for you. To intensify one's passion, thru a song. Whatever one's taste in music, perhaps the commonality that has us as devout isteners, that has music such an integral part of our lives, is the instant bliss. The nature of music triggering glimpses of enlightenment, freeing us from the inherit nature of suffering we are all born into. Where for that 2-3 minutes of melody, notes, rhythm we experience true freedom. Free from attachment to anything in this world. Free from one's self... and so in this way let us find harmony in our lives with music. Let us not limit our musical enlightenment to a song in the intimacy hidden under headphones that has our repressed soul dancing underneath the walls  of thickened skin... let us take the heightened state of musical uplifiting and allow it to play in the background of our lives and perhaps here we will suddenly find the transformation actualized, as we find ourselves under spotlight, center stage looking at the empty audience seat we once sat in, in the ocean of discontent  human bodies we were once a participant of. And in this moment when the knees begin to buckle with the realization that we have become the composer of our own destiny, and our lives becoming the greatest compositional work that we dance ourselves in, let us return to our favorite song as an inspiration to recall that fearless freedom that brought us here. And let this song bring us deeper into the reality of our being, not escaping it, making each second of the day richer. And it is here that we will experience the nature of musics potential... beyond sound. nature of music, watersoluble oil on wood panel, 16"x 20", 2013finished piece

inspired by Saint Genevieve, watersoluble oil on wood panel, 16"x20", 2013

        Some years ago when I was in the earlier developing stages of my art, I would exhibit a painting here and there though I had no real intension or motivation behind doing so. There was a show in Oakland, CA at then Bootling Gallery, where artists were invited to submit a piece where as far as I knew, there was no concept behind the show other than to fill the entire space. Wall to ceiling. It was a free for all. So in response, I thought of how I could stand out from the crowd. I decided on painting a large portrait of Hitler wearing a bright pink button up shirt on a loud green background. Upon beginning the painting however, I would experience inner conflict. The subject though kitschy, heavy nonetheless. I was dating a girl at the time that inspired my male nature in the most uplifting primordial state. She had me smiling whether in her presence or outside of it. And so thru the process of painting, I became aware of the disharmony in how I was living and what I was expressing. So I abandoned Hitler and would create a Bukowski portrait inspired and encompassing his poem "The Laughing Heart", which described the awareness and the action of the situation of life at that moment. At some point I can remember the girl sharing it with a student of hers who loved the painting as well. This was too long ago to remember if this was coincidental or if I had shared with her that she had inspired the painting. Years later, I find little to no seperation in what I create and how I live. How I live, with awareness and intention, has become almost purely the material from which I reflect upon expressed in whatever medium makes sense. Painting, writing, photography and so on. The line between art and life has blurred in this way. I have never been interested in conforming to the demands of the market, galleries, etc. though I work with those vehicles more and more. I guess for myself, it has always been the priority to be the driver is all, which has in the past closed many doors.

      Yet its interesting to reflect on ourselves every now and then, and notice the patterns and the breaking there of, or the continuance of which. It was only yesterday where I would find myself in the center of a lake with one of my closest allies on his birthday, where we had a conversation on this matter. For it was in that very spot on a pitch black midnite where we were naked, and I would suddenly experience a panic attack suddenly aware I couldn't see anything around me including the shore. I snapped and had trouble ever since being in the water though I confront this almost daily. Yesterday I swam the length of that same lake. Around 6 years later. My life recently has been extremely heavy at points, going thru major transformation and confrontingly walking in it with the compass of philosophy to navigate. It has brought me to not only look into the nature of things such as death, mind, and so on... but to experience it as well. So in getting to this painting, this reflection, the breathe of light fresh air, is inspired by that female nature once again, though uniquely different of course.  I have recently come to know Genevieve, and to describe the birth of this communion would have this blog go on for a number of pages, I will express its nature at some point. For it is worth doing so, for its nature is one of uplifting potential perhaps in relation to the global family. I feel drawn to describe the expereince in one word... auspicious. For there are layers of overlapping unforseen commonality of a metaphysical nature that has me so familiar with a stranger, and yet there is a foreign world of an individual that is so new to me. And at this core exists a heart that I feel relation to, that has me waking each day with inspiration to enter the world. When Genevieve saw this piece, she used the word 'cherub like' to describe it. Makes sense, in how I let the emptiness of self be filled with the inspiration expressed in this writing, in creating this painting. Though this is the personal process background, its my hope that the feeling alone will be triggered in whoever so experiences 'inspired by Saint Genevieve'. Enjoy! (pics are of Genevieve and some of her expressions)

        For the drawing, I based the portrait on one of Rodin's busts. I always love the emotion in his works and aimed to express that moment of disappointment where this devil (Screwtape) realizes that despite all efforts, another human patient has been lost to the world of eternity... to god. Screwtape (based on CS Lewis' The Screwtape Letters), ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2013

wormwood (based on CS Lewis' The Screwtape Letters), ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2013

'...the present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our enemy (god) has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them. He would therefore have them continually concerned either with eternity (which means being concerned with him) or with the present. Either meditating on their eternal union with, or separation from, himself, or else obeying the present voice of conscience bearing the present cross, receiving the present grace, giving thanks for the present pleasure.

        Our business is to get them away from the eternal and from the present with this view, we sometimes tempt a human to live in the past. But this is of limited value for they have some real knowledge of the past and it has a determinate nature and, to that extent resembles eternity. It is far better to make them live in the future. Biological necessity makes all their passions point in the direction already, so that thoughts about the future inflames hope and fear... in a word, the future is, of all things, the thing least like eternity.'- CS Lewis

'mind itself is reality. The world outside one's self, is experienced from within one's self. And from this fundamental awareness, does one exist in the primordial, unconditional state of being, living in harmony with the true nature of reality, thru the realization of the true nature of mind. This is the highest potential  to living, inherit in us all. For without this awareness, life is experienced in a rather illusionary nature. An appearance of reality, not reality itself. And in the laws of nature, such as impermenance, are these illusions shattered and we find ourselves awakened again and again, to the nature of reality. So let us go deeper with more realization, always, into the nature of our own mind. So we can arrive at the hidden treasure we exhaust ourselves looking so desperately for, waiting for us always in the nowness of reality. That treasure of true happiness, inner peace... Contentment. 'nature of reality, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2013

 'the stories of the mind... when one finds one self in situations with which one is unfamiliar with, watch your mind as if watching a feature length film. And when watching, realize it is one of fiction, not reality. And become aware to not interact, or add to it. Simply observe. And doing so, notice it's length begin to shorten. And with deeper awareness witness it dissolve altogether. And suddenly one finds one's self transformed from an experience of make believe in one's mind to the reality of the present moment. And from here, the real movie begins. One is in the director's chair living a story whose screenplay is created second by second. And although one will find it difficult to remain in this space, the important thing is to now know the difference between fiction and reality in the constancy of our lives. And with this as a point of reference, one will have the option, the ability to transform from one to the other. And so now which will one choose to live as?'

stories of the mind, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2013

"Mourning Love", ink on paper, 8.5"x 5.5", 2013

"In relationships of intimacy, where we make ourselves most vulnerable... our tender heart exposed to another. And in this openness, we are transformed into an uplifting peak. This has to be one of the greatest experiences of our lives. The nature of love. And in the constancy of reality, when we find ourselves separated from that which we grew ourselves once into, do we ever forget that peak our heart led us to? It seems such a betrayal to one' self to pretend what once was, had never existed if it were rooted in the true nature of love. That formless, unaltered, ineffable, harmonious bond of the deepest euphoric bliss with another human. So even in the face of mourning, let this expression pay heed to the ex-lover (s) that participated in this mutual devotion of now past time. Though we may have let go, let us not forget. We were once in love. (Mourning Love)"

"experience the pain willingly, look deep into the nature of suffering... arrive at the realization of the nature of reality. We are born into the world with suffering. The physical body will experience age, sickness, disease, and death. The mind will experience emotions, memories, thoughts, desires. We will spend a big portion of our lives searching, desiring, finding, attaining, and losing. We suffer much from all these things. And to experience these things willingly, is to embrace life, for life. To deny these experiences, is to deny life, living. In our denial we find ourselves living lives of an illusory nature. Coping, rationalizing, burying our pain in a chest anchored at the depths of our souls. And its anchor gets heavier as we continue to fill it's chest with each denied pain experience, and we find our lives heavy. Life becomes burdensome, and the only objective becomes to not make it so. To make it pleasurable. And so we feed our minds. With relationships, with big plates of food, with alcohol, with entertainment, etc. But it is never enough. We become transparent like ghosts. For we are like ghosts, living in a physical world... but not truly here. Not truly alive, living, yet not dead. Rather waiting to be dead. So let us break the chains of denial, with awareness. Let us be liberated from the depths of our ignorance that is responsible for our suffering. Let us stop fooling ourselves in trying to manipulate that which can't be manipulated. Life, reality. That is, let us end the neuroses of inviting the 'good' and running from the 'bad'. (happiness and pain). Let us accept the interdependence of both, for this interdependence is reality. And from the unity of these two, we arrive at contentment. And when we have arrived at contentment, realize that we have arrived at reality. For all we need, we already have. Here and now, second by second. Life has become a miracle again."nature of suffering, ink on paper, 5.5"x8.5", 2013

           Transformation and Change

The difference between transformation and change is where in change, something of the old remains though in appearance the form seems to be new, different. One eventually however, tends to find one's self where one thought one moved away from.

    In transformation, actual change occurs where something at it's root is different as to what it was before. And because it begins at the root, it grows into something unfamiliar, mysterious, fresh. A complete birth into something new. Where one once found themselves becomes nothing more than a memory in time.

      And in making any decision in regard to what we call 'life making decisions', is it important to look into the true desire, intention. Does one in whatever decision is being made, does one want true change or just the appearance of change.transformation/change reflection, ink on paper, 5.5"x 8.5", 2013

       After the first two days of art installation, we would take a break and not work on Saturday. I was feeling anxious in that I should do something, anything to build to the show. The first thought of course is to create another painting in adding it to the body of work. But this could only be stressful, and having been there, done that it is trying to force life too much. So I went swimming, urban hiking, and at night would attend an art show at Somarts put on by a freshly graduating class of fine artist college students. I subbed for Kevin, the professor, a few weeks before the end of the semester, so I got to meet the students and was informed about the show. I arrived at the last hour of it and at the reception desk had bought a few raffle tickets to support the event. The raffle itself was to give away around 10 paintings to 10 various ticket holders. Being a minimalist, as I entered the gallery space I began to give away my tickets to people I would run into. However, before I could entirely do so the raffle had begun within 5 minutes of having bought the tickets. Immersed in a mass of people, confused, overwhelmed slightly I turn to locate where the announcement of winners is taking place. I turn around to find I am in the center of it and my friend Brett is announced as the special guest in drawing the raffle. Seconds later they announce "Aki!"... I take a picture at that moment still not sure what is going on for I had no intention, desire to win. But from the laughing smile of Brett, its obvious. I'm the first winner. So I take a photo in front of my acclaimed piece and it is a conceptual portrait. My cup of tea for it is an expression that I continually work with. After the raffle, the artist Madeline would introduce herself and give me the painting. She was absent on the day I subbed and we express mutual gratitude over the piece. She tells me that as part of a class project where  they were to choose 3 contemporary artist they are influenced by and to do a presentation there of, she chose me. I was flattered and this painting was making more sense. She warned me of her friend Holly who wanted the piece desperately and may even try to purchase it. Sure enough, I would soon after be approached by Holly. Madeline was correct, and Holly and I discuss resolution over ownership of the piece. I don't want to sell it, and though I authentically love the piece I do not collect anything. And this is usually awkward, for I do not know what to do with gifts. But Holly is here, and she shows me all the raffle tickets she purchased with intention to win the painting. I'm touched, and its obvious that the problem of what to do with the beautiful artwork is solved. I have incorporated the piece into my show, and at the end of it will pass it on to Holly. And one last note is that I at one time had vision to create a very similar concept, but never did so, and how wonderful that another artist would do so and it would end up in my hands. And not any artist, but an artist that was openly inspired by my own expressions. So in conclusion, this expression of Life is 'harmony'. Its when trust exists. Trust in the basic goodness of life. That life exists naturally, in its constancy. In its truest nature of reality which is simply here and now. And if one can surrender the preconceptions, the opinions, the jugdements, the technicalities, the grasping, manipulation, control and simply experience it for what it is spot by spot, second by second openly, fearlessly how much of a miracle it tends to be. Life opens up in an unimaginable way. One is harmony with all things, living in complete accordance with nature. This isn't about winning a prize, rather the prize is experiencing the uplifting nature of ourselves as if we begin to use wings that we never knew we had. And so this final piece created as the result of this experience is done so in hopes that others will be uplifted, and/or inspired for their own uplifting life pursuit. Let us burn the cocoons we build ourselves into only in feeding the egos of our minds, and spread our wings and live openly in the infinite sky like nature of our hearts, minds living in harmony with all things made available to us.

       Though a photograph of the complete piece self is not here, it is a compilation of the original painting with photographs (some of which are here) and words written on rice paper with ink, and a printed out email. It will be on display at the show opening this Saturday. More info on that can be found at the link http://emtab.org/the-life-show-jun-2013/

         Upon reflection over these past 6 years of the Art With Elders experience, it is easily one of my proudest life experiences. It continues to be a wealth of wisdom, knowledge, insight into the nature of true reality. art elder sketch, When attending faculty meetings, the other members often share heartwarming stories that anyone can not help but experience being in the situation. I certainly have mine. Just to share one of my favorites... One of my first students was a diva poet in her eighties. She was a bundle of passionate energy, putting creativity at the forefront of most her life. "Genya", oil on wood panel- 12"x 16" (2007) Her medium is writing having published books of her poetry, and she took advantage of attending the class as to learn to express herself visually. Though going thru the frustrations of a beginner in painting, she was determined. She never missed class, and gave me a hard time if I had to cancel for any reason. She would work diligently on completing painting after painting between classes. So much so, I was feeling guilty of being lazy in my own practice. As the result of her age, naturally her body was showing signs of shutting down. At one point she was having serious knee problems, and could barely walk being in chronic pain/discomfort, but she hobbled to class where we made a sling with a chair to prop the injured leg up while she painted. She would attend a doctors appointment later for the matter, and I was told she had brought her art materials to the office and continued to paint on the floor until she was called. art elder sketch Her spirit was so touching, and she would upon myself leaving that specific class for others, say to me 'if only I were fifty years younger I would smother you'. It made me blush, and I took the words seriously for she had a boyfriend who was in his fifties. Through out our relationship, I would get to know her history and what a rich one it is. Everyone has a story, and how inviting when a veteran of life so close to the finish line presents it like an open book. I am so proud to have been another character of an experience her life story, as she is mine.

       The following is a piece created in homage to the elder experience, which I currently still am a part of. The person painted is Ada, who I adore and currently work with. Enjoy. elder homage, watercolor/marker on paper, 8"x10", 2013

"Thank you elders. For the shared experience. You are the veterans of life that are a fountain of wisdom from a life lived. It is in your presence, that I walk away with a reference point to live here and now intensely. That there is an ending chapter to this life story and to cultivate courage so as to take responsibility for being it's sole author. The body ages wearily, and the mind follows. Yet it is your uplifting spirit that I find inspiration to experience the fullest potential existing in this constant fleeting human experience. Thanks for the unconditional generosity, openness, love, laughs, and friendship. It has been the chapter in my life story that I re-read with a sense of fullfillment each time. Thank you with Love..."

insight headpiece, watercolor on yupo, 9"x12", 2013

Look deep into the nature of mind, seeing past conceptions, opinions, prejudices, learned knowledge and arrive at that crystal clear clarity of the unaltered primordial state of being. And from here, like the nature of a crystal let the experiences of the universe reflect thru your being, fully absorbed in the harmonious nature of all things existing in accordance with another. No longer experiencing the world thru that restless mind exhausted by neurotic thought and emotions, no longer afraid of anything in the world. Boredom, depression, aggression, control, grasping, and so on fade into the background like the setting sun. The moon and all that it brightens is experienced unconditionally until the rising sun luminates all that more to be experienced with an open heart of fearlessness. Life itself is rewarded gratitude. The awareness of even walking the earth step by step gives one goose bumps, for it is experienced deeply. And true liberation occurs in those moments where loss occurs, but is experienced willingly. For it is all seen as the completion of a whole life. And to live it wholly, there is no regret at its end for life was experienced in all honesty, unconditionally for all its potential in the nature of its reality. There were moments where it was as simple as laying on ones back in a body of water under a hot sun, and other times that invited the intensity of experiencing the death of a loved one. And in the end, it is ourselves we arrive at in having lived conditionally or unconditionally. It is to ourselves that we answer to whether we truly lived, or denied life waiting to be dead. As the saying goes, 'it is never too late', so let us begin with ourself and live fearlessly the richest potential made available us all from birth. Let us live...

"Approaching an aspect of life with determination, with devotion. And in this pursuit a recipe of sorts can be drawn between struggle and victory. And in the struggle bleeds doubt, frustration, and ultimately depression. And it boils to a peak where there seems no alternative but to let go. Like holding onto a diamond that at it's center exists a burning coal, the pain of holding onto it's deceiving illusionary nature is more painful than letting go. And in doing so one experiences a liberation. A notion of fearlessness ensues and the struggle is transformed into a game of creative meditative fun and play. The lost diamond is re-discovered, but this time there is no hot coal at it's core. Rather it is empty. For the difference now is that one sees the empty nature of devotion outside one's self and has turned the pursuit inwardly. No longer is the focus the result. Rather the process is experienced. And by default, the richness experienced in the nowness of the process becomes evident given life in the result. And sometimes this miracle extends itself from merely a personal experience to one celebrated, nurtured by the universe. The world acknowledges this personal achievement and rewards it's creator. This is what is called having your cake and eating it too. This is victory."

Cougan, watercolor/ink on paper, 8"x10", 2013

let the sun of awareness that we find eclipsed by the moon of forgetfulness, rise and shine thru with its luminostic rays of joy, compassion, and wisdom. Cover the entire earth of our being, giving life to all that it's light shines on. In this light, recognize the basic goodness of ourselves, the phenomenal world, and our existence in it. Let us live in this light of true liberation, free from the self created suffering of the mind and let us live the richest lives available in every passing moment, non-distracted and fully being in the here and now. Let us like the sun itself, live in nature as nature, harmonious with all things in the universe.the sun of awareness and the moon of forgetfulness, watercolor/pen on paper, 8"x10", 2013

letter to Daniel, 8"x 10", watercolor/pen on paper, 2013

Daniel, Thank you. You are a blessing that has appeared in my life at a point of major transformation. With transformation from old to new, typically comes an overall state of discomfort. Your compassion helped make the pain tolerable as if taking an aspirin for the aching heart. Your sacred space at home is a refuge of well-being that you shared with me providing a space to heal, where I did so with fresh cut wounds. Your openness, gentleness, presence, and non-judgement provided a space for my heart to be fully open. Your indirect spiritual guidance has opened up a world for which I have been searching for so long, but wasn't sure how to approach. You have been the mediator, the spiritual ambassador that has manifested in this recent bardos where I find myself daily coming to deeper realization of myself, of the universe. Our relationship will always be born from this embryo of ineffable experience that has me deeply grateful to you. These are merely words to express such, but perhaps I can provide the same experience so you can know directly the depths of my loving heart when reflecting on you. -Love Aki

"look deep into the nature of your mind and perhaps you will see the true nature of reality itself. Look past all the thoughts, emotions, the learned knowledge, the conditioning, the neuroses and perhaps see the emptiness of it all. Open your mind in this way, and so too perhaps will your heart open to all things as well. And in this openness, perhaps experience a harmony thru the interconnectedness of all things in the universe. Though all things being empty, they hang in the black void of the universe like shining jewels… transparent, absorbing and reflecting light from the suns, the moons, and all the stars in the universe. Looking deeply, perhaps realize nothing in this way is truly independent of itself. And perhaps realize the desiring need to exist so, is the root of all our ignorance that causes all our suffering and is projected onto the world itself, and collectively is responsible for the continual destruction of the world. And in looking deeper into the nature of mind, perhaps begin to cultivate compassion. Firstly for one's self, then for all other beings for when one begins to see the interdependence of all things perhaps one begins to see that any negative action, or even thought  towards all things not only brings harm to others, but also to one's self. And in looking deeply, let us not mistake any of these realizations for pure understanding, and so look deeper and deeper. And in this manner, perhaps discover who we truly are so as to no longer have confusion and arrive at peace, contentment within. Free from the ocean of suffering where we tend to live our lives in highs and lows, existing vulnerably to the impermanent nature of all that we manifest in our desires and attach to, unable to let go when they no longer cease to exist. Looking deeply into the nature of mind, finding this nature of reality, let us live unconditionally in its emptiness so as to deeply experience the potential of a human existence for all that it offers, second by second. And in this way perhaps, discover something that which is not impermanent, inherit to us all. Eternal, ineffable, deep at the center of the void of emptiness within the heart of humanity… And perhaps it is from this place that any true transformation will take place. Firstly from within, and then outwardly. And perhaps will we be saved, and so too the world."impermenance/eternal, watersoluble oil on wood, 16"x20", 2013

reflection on death, water-soluble oil on wood, 12"x12", 2013

"reflection on death... looking into the nature of death, is not without looking into the nature of life itself. The 2 are inseparable. And so to have any understanding of life, it is necessary to look into death. In this sense, death is the mirror to life. The dance of life and death is one of impermanence that is the nature of all that we experience."

and the following was the rest of the writing which I chose to leave out of the piece... "all that we give birth to in whatever form, relationship that may be, will surely at some point be lost. If one only look into all things in the universe, one will see this without exception. The constancy of life. And how we always try to build lives of security that are void of impermanence. We want that which we deem important in our lives, that which we attach to, to last forever. And how we suffer at their end in the inevitable cycle of birth and death. How we deny death when it occurs, developing a practice of denial so as to not experience the discomfort, the pain that comes with death. And so we never truly heal, and begin to live in fear, more and more afraid to experience anything fully, openly for we don't want to experience the re-occurying pain that is part of being human. We drift further away from our primordial nature. The nature of our mind, our heart that was initially in harmony with all things before we developed mental concepts that rationalize reality. We find happiness  in these concepts, that are merely perceptions of reality but not reality itself, and how we are confused and hurt when death removes them. The structures we that created our identity around disappear. And maybe thats why we are so afraid of death. Because in its nature, death presents us to our true selves, unfiltered. And when this happens, do we have any idea of who we really are? And so it is here that one person 'moves forward' building a new rationalized conception of reality, leaving from the past, trying to find a new happiness. But this only continues the pattern of suffering. To leave this cycle is not to constantly create new realities separate from true reality, but to live in reality itself. And the irony is that it is here that one will find that which we live our lives for. To live a life of contentment, inner peace with not confusion in harmony with the universe, free from suffering. Reality is impermanent, so to live here, to experience it fully is to experience the beginning and the end of all things without clinging to them, trying to manipulate or control them. We call the end 'bad', and the beginning 'good', and try as we will to avoid the 'bad' and invite the 'good'. This is the ignorance of our suffering. This is a distortion of reality. Reality is simple. It is here, it is now. It is constant. It includes life, it includes death. Both are human, both are natural. To exist in suffering as the result of disallowing there interdependent relationship is not. So let us have a relationship with death, so that we can have a relationship with life. And ultimately, live this life so as to be prepared when we are at the end and can rest in peace, content with the final death having the understanding and having living a life without regret in the true meaning of the phrase. 

The highest achievement being one of a spiritual nature. To understand the truest nature of our mind, opening our eyes to the true reality of life itself. This is the knowledge behind the knowledge. Not the outer appearance of anything, but the inner experience of them. The awareness that lies behind the ego. And from the awareness of one's true nature, a quality of fearlessness exists. For things are experienced in there constancy in the nowness, not first conceived then acted or not acted upon. There is a harmony in this manner, where one is fully absorbed in all that is occurring. All things are experienced willingly. There is no 'good', there is no 'bad'. Even in difficult circumstance, it is experienced as an opportunity to further awaken to ones deeper nature. This is living fully, with openness, with vulnerability, with faith that it is all okay.  To be in alignment with this understanding, is to be in alignment with the world itself. For all things in nature exist in this fashion. All things take form from birth,  exist for a period, and return to a formless state (death) inevitably. To not have this understanding in all things, leads to confusion and ultimately suffering. Without this understanding, one is made vulnerable to the multitude of relationships that constantly manifest and throw us into this dance of birth and death.  And to deny this process in its completion, is to deny life itself. For only to experience the 'good' willingly, is to experience a half life. For all life experience contains both. And so in this way, all that one acquires whether a relationship, family, material wealth and so on, can be experienced fully, and healthy for patterns of manipulation, control, fear, etc that rob one the opportunity to be deeply present in their experience with all things outside themselves are overcome to allow a wholesome experience, only after relating to the universe from the source of our primordial mind, heart. The foundation for a life of contentment, happiness that we all live our lives in effort for obtaining on small and larger scales is manifested from the inside, out. "Spiritual Headpiece", 8.5"x11", watercolor on Yupo paper, 2013

'with these eyes do I see the infinite colors, forms, tiniest details of the world, With these ears do I hear the sounds of stillness and harmony of calm nature. With this mouth do I breathe in life from the air of the blue sky. With this skin do I feel the warmth of the sun. With these hands do I feel the intimacy of all things. With these feet do I feel the stability of the soft earth holding me up. With this nose do I experience the existence of flowers. With this heart do I feel the deep experience of the constancy of the universe.

         Life when lived from being present with one's true nature is experienced fully for the miracle that it is. And the miracle behind the miracle is one need not go further than/outside of one's self to achieve this. Fundementally, is there any higher achievement...appreciation of life reflection, 5.5"x8.5", pen on paper, 2013

    And here is this morning's life drawing that inspired this reflection. Thank you Alex. You're an inspiration!alex sketch II, 8.5"x11", colorpencil on paper, 2013

flesh and spirit, goauche on paper, 5.5"x8.5", 2013

"Our conflict is one of flesh and spirit. The flesh is a box that we build ourselves in, filling it in a constant pursuit of happiness.  Anything that stimulates, satisfies our desires of pleasure, any material that maintains our egos. But how we realize early on that the box is bottomless, and therefore empty in its nature. Nothing ever holds, so we are never content. And this makes us  so vulnerable. And from this we become afraid so our openness closes more with experience, for we know when we are happy that we will suffer eventually as the result of impermanence. So we live half willingly. Despite this we find it difficult, even impossible to break these patterns for we are weak in the temptations of the flesh and live in a world where temptation follows us like our own shadows, and this has us drift ever so further from our spirit nature. But  in this cycle of suffering, there is that space that exists as a whisper that is a relief from the negative thoughts/emotions rising from the pain..  There is that voice within, inviting you within. And if you listen, this whisper will tell you that you are more than your thoughts, your emotions. That you are something deeper. And that reality is more than a cycle of desire, pleasure, happiness, suffering that comes with the flesh. Listen deeply… can you hear it? (it's the spirit)"
 

One of my practices with art is to discover how I can use it as a form of giving to the world. I will explain why so in another writing, but for this one I wanted to focus on an example. In giving, there is the practice of giving to the bigger world, and the smaller  which is more to my personal world. So in the case of the latter, the intent of this morning's imagined headpiece is for my friend Greg. You had a challenging weekend. Life is not without constant challenge, especially when you lay your head on pillow for rest. So know that you were/are in my thoughts and this is a simple act of gratitude/acknowlegdement to show my appreciation. We often go to the theatre or a concert to be part of talent, inspiration that is beyond our grasp. But if we remove the celebrity conditioning, we may discover that such inspirational talent is closer than we think. Sometimes it is found in the shadows of integrity. My eyes are wide open my friend, and I find this in you. Your life is one that holds interest to me like watching a hollywood documentary, and your virtuoso heartfelt expression thru music moves me. It has been a joy getting to know you. So thank you for the invite of your shared presence. It is one that has me left with deep inspiration.  Everytime.

The text which is written in the piece... How unfortunate how we treat the present moment as if it were a hinderance. Always concerned with getting to somewhere, or with obtaining the next best thing. How we miss out. On the experience of our lives. Unawake to the miracle of reality that is breathing all around us. And the irony is that the happiness, the heart of happiness-contentment, that we search for constantly is found there. In nowness. With nowness there is only experience. Being. Free from the stories of the mind. Its projections. Its negative thoughts, emotions. There is stillness. Harmony with all things. Confidence. Contentment. Its very ironic. But how fortunate that its always there. Eternal. Its accessible anytime, anywhere. And how it all changes when accessed. Its like waking from a dream into a world of miracle, mystery with the passion of a child seeing the jungle gym for the first time. One enters a world to explore, experience. There is nothing but possibilities. And one is open to it all. One is alive. One is living. headpiece 29, goauche on paper, 9"x12", 2013

The pain experienced at the end of happiness, will either be an experience that has one begin to drift away from his/her true nature, or will bring him/her that much closer to it. In the pursuit of happiness always giving rise to the manifestation of our desires, do we find happiness and attach to its forms. But in nature's law of constancy where all things change, we tend to suffer at the loss of that which we have attained. This is the experience of birth and death in life itself, in all our relationships with all things to which we place value, attachment. And in the desire to want to feel comfortable, happy do we deny the discomfort, the pain of loss. And this is the reoccurring opportunity of our lives where we can discover the reality of the world more and more, discover our true nature deeper.  Awareness. With awareness we see the wholeness of life as it truly is. That birth, death are one in the same. That neither is good, nor bad and in discovering the nature of the mind, recognize these mis-perceptions that distort reality. Denial. And in this space after death, before being re-born into the next manifestation of desire, is it  crucial to yield to the pain and remain in this space until conditions are sufficient to leave which is when one is healed. For if not, the pain is repressed into a seed which is planted in the re-birth and blossoms in the next manifestation of desire in the form of suffering and the pursuit of happiness begins to transform from not seeking to be happy for its sake, rather to escape the discomfort of suffering that begins to accumulate. Life becomes a projection from which we get lost and confused in.  But when one surrenders to the pain, experiences it just as openly and naturally as one did so with its sibling of joy, happiness does one heal. And when the healing is complete, the conditions allow one to re-enter life in a healthy, wholesome, evolved manner. This is compassion, love at its roots. Love beginning with one's self. And with this, the seeds of happiness blossom wildly in the next birth. And in the completion of this process, with a deeper awareness of the true reality of life, of our true nature does happiness transform into contentment. For in the expansion of this consciousness, does one find the treasure that is not outside of ourselves, rather within. That which is eternal.  eternal, gouache/colored pencil on paper, 11"14", 2013

homage to Thich Nhat Hanh, goauche on paper, 8.5"x5.5", 2013

Thank you Thich for all that you have done, and continue to do. Your life is such a gift to the world.

Give it a space. The negative thoughts, emotions that arise and cause one discomfort. Do not resist, do not deny yourself this experience. When it rises, let it go thru you. It will wrestle you to the point that you begin to feel it physically. But know this discomfort is temporary. It will pass. Its nature is that of a wild animal that is acting out. So tame it, create a vast space for it to graze and it will settle down. And the restlessness will become stillness. It will be satisfied and go about on its way. Do not provoke, do not fight, do not deny. For then it will transform into your worst enemy. Repression and aggression. It will hide, only to reappear running amock in chaos. It will go deeper into the hidden self, and it will find others that have been treated in the same manner. The cattle has now become a herd. This is a lethal pattern that drifts one away from one's truest nature, more and more. Deeper and deeper. The person becomes nothing more than the avoidance they practice. The avoidance of themselves, covered in layers of external material endeavors and acquirements. And when these layers are removed, whether its a title, a membership, a relationship, etc. the person finds themselves at that beginnng point of this reflection. In a place of pain, but with opportunity.  Opportunity to find understanding and harmony with that part of themselves that seems so frightening in concept. This is the leap. And when taking the leap, one sees that it wasn't so difficult. But its the thinking of doing so the brings confusion. Its like building one's dreamhouse on quicksand. Fertilize the land with rich soil at the roots first, then build the house in one's image. The roots into the earth are love and compassion for one's self. The compassion is the result of awareness, recognition of one's true nature. This recognition is having an understanding of the mind. Understanding the mind to live with it, not be lived by it. This is our ultimate responsibility to ourselves. This is our highest achievement. For when, if one achieves anything outside of this, but exists in a state where they are lived by their mind, how can one say with clarity that they achieved anything at all?  As the saying from the bible says, what good is the man that gains the world but loses his soul? External, material endeavors/achievement before internal, spiritual ones. The cart before the horse. This unfortunately is the seemingly convention, the state of culture that many of us exist in. But it is always in our power, to take responsibility for ourselves and truly live a life of actual happiness, inner contentment, true liberation and autonomy. To live our lives, not be lived by them.self portrait 12, charcoal/white chalk on toned paper, (2003)

self portrait 13, charcoal on newsprint paper, (2003)

      The posted examples are (1) a self portrait that I did in the stages of this foundation development. It was done from a mirror in the apartment where I was living at the time, really trying to develop my hand, eye, mind. This is a 'structure drawing', where I was spending hours trying to buid a 3-d translation only using line. I am not concerned with the politics of working from life/photographs, but I feel working from life (in drawing) is a crucial practice for you really spend time with an object in a three dimensional space. It is an experience that not only develops keen observation, but awareness that can transcend drawing itself. When I talk to anyone, it is become habit for me to really be present with them an look deep into their eyes, their being. I attribute this largely, from the discipline of years of life drawing. This is an example of how it has become a spiritual practice for myself. (2) In developing the technical foundation for drawing/painting, one sees that it can be broken down into few, and various concepts. Line, shape, color, etc. And from here, one can choose more and more not only what one wants to paint, but how to paint it. This is an orchid, painted from a photo in my art with elders class at some past time. (3) This was painted for my first show after school, where I began to explore the cultural expression of my 'self, culture, nature' project. This is one of the earlier examples where I was making the effort to bring my development of technical skill, with an execution of an idea together. I borrowed a 38 pistol from my friend Derek, and mounted it to the wall. I spent alot of time with it, appreciating its beauty and reflecting on aggression/violence in the process. The benefit that I found in doing more labor intensive work that demands time, was reflection in the process for the concept at hand. For this I was painting objects as symbols of contemporary Americana. This is also the beginning of my dollar bill series where I continued this same process, idea which I will discuss in another posting.

"orchid 1"- watercolor on paper (2009) "Agrression", oil on canvas

self portrait 7, charcoal on newsprint paper, (2002)

In the process of working on my first book, a collection of artworks expressing a concept that began in 2002, I took several old self portraits that I had executed from early as 2001 to 2004. In this period I was working on the first stage (self) within the concept of 3 stages (self, culture, nature). The point of examining the self was to develop an understanding, relationship with the self. To go within, and truly awaken to myself, so as to understand the world outside of me and my relation to it. At the time I was in a magical place. I was in a relationship with a girl that was beautiful inside and out, loving me in the truest nature of the word and nothing but completely supportive in my life. I had just started art school, beginning the path of the rest of my life, taking that bold step doing what I wanted to do. For the first time in my education, I was obsessive with wanting to achieve and do the work. Meeting all types of artist friends, being introduced to art history, inspiring artists both living and dead... I had no worries other than developing my art.  But I was completely miserable. I was suffering, it was confusing, and my first mentor at this time, Christopher Jernberg would lead me to the solution. The examined life. Externaly, I was successful, but my relationship with all these things was disfunctional, because my mind was so. So for actual practice, it began with literature, the first book being Eckhart Tolle's ' The Power of Now". It sounds naieve to think back now, that it was the simple things that I had no conception of. Presence. When I read the book, I became so present, getting lost in all things around me. Whether it was a conversation with a stranger, or watching running water from a faucet, I was keenly present in appreciating the moment. And this would carry on into drawing. At school, poses were limited to 5-20 minutes, and the longest was 3 hours. I wanted longer, and what better way to develop awareness, presence, and drawing than thru self portraiture. So I went home, set up a light and mirror and confronted myself in the mirror for hours. I executed so many life self portraits in the period of 2001-2004, that I lost count and can't imagine the number of hours. It was an experience of really looking at myself, and having an internal dialogue. It was a wave of emotions where sometimes I loved this man, but there were times where I was really critical, and depressed from what I saw. But I kept at it. Besides literature, I would also begin journal writing. One exercise I would do, as introduced by the author Julia Goldman, was to begin the day by writing in a journal non-stop for 10 minutes. A mental constipation of sorts. It was difficult, for things would come out that were disturbing. But I worked up to it, and what I came to see was not that these thoughts were of honesty. But they were thoughts that were merely repressed, and I had finally given them a space to exist and be free. It felt good. I would then eventually began actual journal writings of inner reflections, and begin to write that. This would at a point begin to be incorporated into the life self portraits as well, and when years later doing cultural portraits, I would use the same practice for those expressions. When looking back, its a pleasure to see how far I've come. Yes, there is the initial feeling of embarrasement when looking at some of the early drawings. Reading some of the text, and the drawings themselves were in the earlier stages of developing technically. But that is ego, and the pleasure is that I have evolved, from self, in that way. That its okay. What is the threat, and why take it so seriously. I'm having more respect for all things, seeing the truer nature of them partly from this initial practice of knowledge of self. In this case, respecting that this was a time period of my life. For better, or for worse and to celebrate that. Especially since I am no longer in that place of suffering, that these drawings remind me of during the time. self portrait 8, charcoal on newsprint paper, (2002) self portrait 9, charcoal on newsprint paper, (2003)

self portrait 10, charcoal/graphite on paper, (2003)

"The Paradox of Pain", ink on paper, 5.5", 2013

"Dream of the Beloved", ink on paper, 5.5", 2013

Mother is my goddess. She who carried me for nine months and went thru the physical pains to deliver me into this world. And though the chord was cut, I feel connected to her like a plant in the earth's soil. All I do is in dedication to her, for I can never pay her back the gift of life she has given me. Sorry goddess, for ever doubting you. Sorry mother, for ever rejecting you. I am a part of you, and with this awareness let me do my best in nurturing myself (mentally, physically, spiritually) for doing harm to myself, is doing harm to you. Sorry for all the harm I may have caused you. And thank you for the unconditional love that only a mother could give with complete authenticity to their child. I worship you, for you are my creator. I love you mother, goddess.goddess, 5.5"x 8.5", watercolor/ink on paper, 2012

         The imagined headpiece chalkboard series began 3 weeks ago and i've been using instagram for its documentation. If interested in following, the link is http://www.oninstagram.com/akirabeard. I am also uploading from there, to the 'headpieces' section on my site (akirabeard.com). Thanks for visiting .

yupo1

2)Now the drawing is set up, I move on to creating a light source where I focus on the shadow side, as well as local value (dark objects even if not in shadow, in this case the hair). I'm not thinking about color too much, but more on value and am using a green and alizarin crimson mix so far. After laying the shadows in, contrast is created and I can see better if anything looks unproportioned. If so, I would go back and make adjustments before moving on. It is difficult to get a smooth consistency with Yupo, and it can take several layers to get the value/color/consistency desired. I feel the medium demands patience in this way, where you have to wait constantly for layers to dry. Here you can see a few layers of creating the shadows where I'm building the contrastyupo2a .yupo2

3) So far, the process results have not exercised the potential/uniqueness of the Yupo. Whether charcoal on paper, oil on canvas, spraypaint on a wall, etc the building process up to this point would look similar despite the medium. Its simply based on traditional principles of drawing. In this stage where I begin to paint the mid-tones (transition from shadow to light), I begin to explore what the paper has to offer. The happy accidents, spontaneity, looseness. Adding yellow and blue to the pallette, next to the shadows I put layers of colors lighter than the shadows, yet darker than the white of the paper down. I also begin to add more pigment than water when trying to bring more and more color out making the painting more opaque. Here I let the paint work freely as it will creating effects that I could not do in a controlling fashion with my own hand. Some of the shadows get lost and bleed into the light side undesirably such as the cheek area next to the visible ear. The benefit of Yupo is you can ALWAYS erase previous layers of color just using water which you can see I have done in lightening up the mentioned cheek/jaw area with yellow and red. I also lost the eye on the viewers left side, but I can always bring it back. In the second photo of this stage, the head is basically complete after finishing the mid-tones. From here it is a matter of buidling form in the shadows and mid-tones working towards details which has been done in the final stage.yupo3 yupo4

4) In the shadows of the eye, nose, chin I give form using principles of core shadow, reflected light, and cast shadow. On the mid-tone side, I allow more effects to occur trying to intensify the color just keeping in mind not to get to dark as to compete with the shadows, or too light so that there is not enough contrast for the highlights to pop out. Between stages 3 and 4, I work with more feeling so I can't really explain color choices, but I always take time at some point to analayze where the piece is at and bring objective thought into it if the painting is out of control and begins to look like a bowl of soup. You can see this balance of control and lack of it in the end. For the final touch, I take a size 0 round brush with white acrylic to pop tiny highlights in the eye, nose and lip. The painting's complete at this point. Thanks for visiting and if you have any comments/questions please don't hesitate to post on the blog or email me at akirabeard@gmail.com. headpiece, yupo on watercolor, 9"x12", 2012

                 I am working on bringing this project in the form of a book including written word, as well as documented paintings and drawings of course. So these are a few examples of 'self' and I will write further explanations with each piece. These are not current work, but were completed around 2003-2004 in my final year as a student at Art School in San Francisco. Enjoyself portrait, oil on canvas, (2004)