Working Artist on the High Road to Taos
But something vital I’ve come to know is this: no matter how hard it is to hold on sometimes, we are not disposable. Our selves, our dogs, our relationships, are not to be shunted aside when they become too difficult.
… and standing in the middle of that street, with no traffic, in the midst of all those abandoned buildings, the mercantile and houses, it was so quiet… It was almost as if I was sensing the silent footprints of a world now out of fashion.
This fear feels so old. Its birthing place nestled within the ancient history of man I’m thinking. We all must carry it, some sort of constantly on-guard defense system that will make us ready when the inevitable strike comes.
… this is where I caught my first true glimpse of me. THIS is where the abstracts were born. But I wouldn’t fully understand it until this very moment as I write it out to you.
… it was with some incredible hubris, if not utter disrespect, that I’d made these plans. I knew nothing about Truchas–its rich and complicated history, its heritage, its people, its simple AGE (the village was founded in 1754).
So I make my paintings, influenced by the rich tradition of those who went before me, works made possible by the sacrifices required of revolution, by great artists breaking new ground. I think those artists live on, not only in their own works they left behind, but in the works of those of us who call ourselves abstractionists… the ground they broke is still bearing fruit.
I wish for all of us the pursuit of our dreams and the blessing of parents who grant them; to BE the parents who grant them, and the friends who support them. May we all live within our greatest possibilities and trust the process of life.
