Surfaces

I have been sick with the flu, and today, the Spring Equinox, is the first day in a bit that I feel human. I am sorry that I am late with this post, but sometimes circumstances force me to slow down. I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and I thought I would start with this blog, which seems perfect on Spring Equinox.

One thing an artist is always considering is what type of surface to do their work upon. Will it be on canvas, paper or board? Or will the artist work with metal , wood, or clay are a few of the many, many possibilities we all consider.

For me the surface is as important as the oil pastels or acrylic paints I use to create the image. It is the base, the foundation for what I wish to share with others. If the surface can't support what I wish to share, it will crumble and be of no use to anyone. I personally like to work on white surfaces, because of how it keeps my colors true to their nature. I like to work on a smooth surface and build my own texture. The surface excites me, because it invites me, challenges me, and provides an opportunity to create. It also can become my psychiatrist, because that surface makes me face my fears, problems and all of those hidden items that we all try to avoid. It also becomes a place for me to share my spiritual experiences....

A week ago we headed to Moab, but this time we were on the other side of the river from where I shot the video showing all of the petroglyphs. Why that surface? Why those rocks? Well, they are amazingly beautiful as they dramatically erupt straight for the sky while skating along the river's edge. But what else caused them to work there?

Well, they are smooth....they are warm. Most of the petroglyphs are south facing. The Old Ones wanted to share their stories with the sun. Even when the sun leaves us during the winter, we can still feel its warmth when we face south. The rock is very smooth. I doubt they had to do much of any work to smooth it out enough to create their mysterious masterpieces. There is also quite a bit of desert varnish/patina on the rock, which creates a black surface over the red rock. It creates a dramatic look without ever having to bring out any type of mineral to paint with. They simply peck through the black and find the red. They perfectly illuminate each other.

I think these petroglyphs tell many stories. There are stories about migrations, offerings, ceremonies, hunts, dancing, animals, and clan affiliations that once lived there. The interesting thing is that when they are in the sun, it isn't so easy to see them. The best time to look at them is in the morning, before the sun climbs too high into the sky. This is what makes me think they are sharing their stories with the sun.

However, just as that thought passes through my mind, the reflection of the sun dancing upon the river water is mirrored upon the rocks. These rocks are also where they whispered their gratitude for the gift of life that the river and all of the natural springs provided them. The sun and water dance upon these rocks. Moab is an amazing place; hot desert filled with water, springs and waterfalls.

Where would I paint if I wanted to share my stories with the sun and river? It would be right over there....in the warmth, along the beautiful, flowing, Colorado River. How can one be here and not want to speak with the Two at the same time? They are sacred, and the rocks are the perfect surface to reflect this.

I spend a lot of time hiking in the forest not far from my home. I wonder what would be a natural surface for me to work on to reflect my feelings and experiences for this forest? I don't know right now. I will get back to you on that maybe in my next post.

Sacred Art/ Sacred Language

This has been a very difficult weekend, but it seems to be the best time to go public with a new body of artwork that I want to embark on.

I live in Western Colorado on the edge of the Ancients. If I head west or South, it is hard to not stumble upon some sign of an Ancient world. It has captivated me, spoken to me for years. Many years ago an elder adopted me, and when I asked him about the meaning of some petroglyphs I recently discovered, and he told me I already knew. What? I didn't have a clue what they meant, but he insisted I did. This planted a small seed within me that has been slowly germinating for years.

Walking through canyons and deserts I've come to realize that as much as I enjoy and appreciate the artistic value of all the petroglyphs and pictographs, they really are not art in the modern sense of the word. They are a language. They are the first written language upon this continent and all over the world.

I want to embark on a journey of new artwork where I try to rediscover within myself my own sacred language. My relatives come from France, and who knows, maybe they were one of the people that wrote upon the Lascaux caves. Maybe my Ancestors are whispering to my heart.

For whatever reason, I feel that this is important. I keep seeing images of unplugging a television from a wall with the words written above, "In order to reconnect, you must first disconnect."

Art has always been about communication I believe, but back then it was an actual language; just ask the Hopi. In the book Canyon Spirits, Florence Lister writes, "Some scholars argue that the rock are left on craggy canyon faces, the polychromatic murals painted on kiva walls, and the geometric and naturalistic patterns laid on ceramic vessels were a form of written language in being messages to the spirit world." Scientists aren't allowed to make creative leaps to understanding what is upon all the rocks in our region, but artists are not limited by those rules.

Art is about emotional expression or sharing a scene that we love. It is storytelling to some degree, but when you stand underneath a huge panel covered in images along the Colorado River, you know that something much deeper is going on. Archaeologists believes that only the shamans did the actual writing upon the rocks, at least among the Fremont People,

because they discovered pigments buried with the shamans. I believe writing was a sacred act. The power of an image can create or it can destroy.

Fritz Scholder was one of my favorite artists. He said that in this time we need more Shamanic artists. I believe he said this because he saw how disconnected we are becoming from Nature. Maybe this body of work will help some find their way back.