A Testament Of Time

Brooklyn Bridge

‘You know who I am? I’m the Brooklyn friggin’ Bridge. ‘You wanna piece of ‘dis”
I have been profoundly affected by this iconic piece of architecture from the first moment I set eyes on it, let alone walked across it. There is a feeling that comes over you. Honesty I have felt cradled by the web of cables and my breathe has been taken away too many times to count by the awe inspiring views of New York Harbour.

It is a testament to strength, a testament to perseverance, a testament to holding fast to your vision and principles. It was built by immigrant hands. These hands sacrificed so much for the promise of a better future. And it means everything to me.

The story of the Brooklyn Bridge is truly a marvel of the modern era and for me has summed up life in New York. Washington Roebling saw something. He had a modern vision though he stuck to old fashioned ideals. When the project ran into trouble, he rolled up his sleeves and worked along side his men. He fell ill (as did the immigrant laborers) with the bends, though never gave up desire to see its completion. His wife took over the project and was the first to cross the bridge. Emily Warren Roebling later went on to earn a law degree and had a very robust career.

My fascination with this Gothic marvel became a critical need. The story burned deeply in me as I felt such a close identity to it and its surrounding story. Life here is far from easy, but there is always a chance. You give everything for it. And it tests your mettle. Never waiver, never compromise, never give up.

Great Expectations

I am constantly amazed by this beast, these sets of negotiations, these near misses and blatant collisions referred to as the human condition. I will be honest in saying I have come nowhere near figuring it all out. Though like a lab rat that keeps going back to that which shocks it, I still have an insatiable fascination.

Clearly, life has taught me lessons. Clearly, there are many that have not stuck. Here is a lesson I  learned. One that took several years.

"Breathe" Oil on Linen 18" x 24"

This post is concerned with my process. A process of honesty. A process of self examination. One that spits you out the other side resulting in an undiluted vision; a fearless abandon to take the next steps. One that finally dawned on me.

This image has always been arresting to the people I have shared it with. I could never put my finger on why. To me, the whole thing seemed perfunctory. I did this because I was working towards making a life dream a reality. When I had painted this picture I was at the end of a relationship with someone I was deeply in love with. At this particular point in our lives what we had did not match our expectations.  She appears startled, not comfortable with the situation she is in; for me I guess the same. There is a noticeable tension between the subject and the environment. It is something that happens all the time.

Looking back on it all, it finally dawned on. There is no need to dig for deeper meanings. No need to prove a point or find something to say. It is already there. I have said this so many times (add nauseum) that what makes good art is to depict life. That which is. It doesn’t really work when you find a model and paste a meaning on top of it. It never comes across the same way. I have learned to let go. I have learned to fear less, and dare I say, to want more. I have learned how to tell a story.

First and foremost I am taking this very opportune moment to offer my warmest thanks to everyone who has visited this site, subscribed to it, posted comments, and above all shared it with others. Apparently this thing has now spread to Europe. Cool.

And in all honesty that has always been the intention of this blog. I wanted to use digital media to share my world as an artist and bring to the forefront the rich world of creativity that is not often seen. The internet has broken down so many of these walls and given a voice to so many that have otherwise been stifled by what have been the traditional avenues of accessing art and culture. Perfect example, iTunes. Which brings me to the point of this entry, FRIENDS WE LOVE.

Facebook is a very interesting. It is a place where you look up ex’s, find soon to be new ones, and at times use it for it’s intended purpose which is reconnecting with people you have lost contact with.

So I Facebooked Mike Vargas. He is a friend from art school, he studied film and I…. well…. it was art school after all. The process took no time before he and I were compressing 15 years into a chat at Starbucks. Turns out he and his girlfriend, Moni Pineda, started one of the most interesting endeavors which is not only growing but attracting attention at a meteoric rate. They have taken the build it and they will come approach to finding, showcasing, seeding, educating, engaging, and spreading the work of emerging and established artists in several disciplines. All in less than a year. This beauty is entitled Friends We Love.

If there ever has been the question uttered on your lips of, “I wish I knew more of what is going on out there…… I wish I knew more about new music, art, etc.” look no further. Bearing the tagline, Your Web Station For Inspiration, they offer programs which showcase current works that truly embody the spirit of NYC, the creativity that has pulsed through her veins since day 1, and the people (like me) who are profoundly affected to do something about it. And above all, when you have an original reaction to natural phenomenon, it takes very little time to express something so profound which is love. Monica and Michael spread LOVE.

I have brought to your attention the work of Doze Green. I have mentioned here earlier that when I arrived in this country as a boy, New York in the 80’s made a very big impression on me. I saw the genesis of Hip Hop, Grafitti Art, and life lived out loud on the streets and subways. I can go on and on, but I think the best approach is for you to experience it yourself.

Please enjoy, I highly encourage you to spend some time on their site and blog:

http://friendswelove.com/

So I have to admit being absolutely torn with what direction my blog was going to take. I initially wanted to create an absolutely trashy, sensationalist hub for the failures in the human condition. Yeah I could get a lot of traffic and a lot of attention, but I had to calculate the number of friends I would lose, people I would alienate, wierdos I would attract, and of course the very high risk of being canned.

So I was advised to take the high road……   Great.

This leaves a dilemma. Any one who has ever been in contact with me is quite aware that my sense of human is generally in the toilet. Sure there are some redeeming moments, but frankly that is hard work. I like to be witty, and thought provoking, sure, but there is a great value in comic relief. You know, keeping it light.

So I have to provide something that is witty, prescient, and in good taste. Hmm.

I am an artist to the core. ….And I work in digital. On both fronts my greatest concern is content that is relevant, timely, and engaging. And as we say in the biz, “has a long tail of engagement.” There has to be something that people identify with, something that is of real utility.

Please enjoy this. I think it is a perfect mid point between caca pee pee and an extremely good use of digital media.

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more about “Awww Screw It“, posted with vodpod

New York Cares

This is a strange place. A very strange place. A place that has inspired countless numbers. A place that has broken the wills and hearts of countless numbers. A place that has made careers, fullfilled life dreams, given meaning to and confused individuals to degrees that are beyond human comprehension.

People have found themselves here. People have lost themselves here. And as often as people question why they have this abusive relationship there is never a compelling answer. Once you have this drug coursing through your veins, once you have bitten into the core… well… it gets tougher to live without it.

I, as the rest of you, have experience this duality all too often. I have seen this world through rose colored glasses, during the light of day, and felt as though I was truly on my way. As if things couldn’t get any better. There have been times when the dissapointment has come so thick and fast that all I could do is beg for abject mercy. Even though you try to hold fast to something that makes sense, this machine keeps things moving at it’s pace. Even in the deepest night it hums. It vibrates. It doesn’t sleep. And frankly neither do I.

"New York Cares" oil on linen 12" x 16"

And then there is the dialog you have with her. Times you look up, marvel and say thank you. Times where you have to be alone and think awhile. In your place. In your special spot. A place where you can have a chat. A place where you know you are accepted.

This isn’t all the way finished, it’s almost there.

Ever have a conversation where you’re hovering over a topic and the words are just not coming together to get your point across? Ever have that conversation go in the direction where the person you are speaking with says something YOU wish YOU had thought up and said? Hmm.. Right.

My friend Michael and I were speaking on the phone one Wednesday or Thursday night deciding on what weekend activity we would be particpating in that was cultural and would not require hydration or painkillers afterwards. After all we do live in the art capital of the world and culture is readily available. What’s more is that I live right next to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and I would be a total lamoid should I never make it in there. So at this point the only thing to decide is which museum to go to. The conversation went as such:

“Any thoughts as to what you want to see?”, I ask.  

“I don’t know, there is so much cool stuff. I kind of wanted to see the American Stories exhibit, maybe the Art of the Samarai again. Why? What were you thinking?”

“I kinda have been on this modern kick lately. I always go to the Met. Maybe one of the others. Like the Guggenhiem or the Whitney.”

“Whitney always has great photography, which I like”, replies Michael

“Yeah, but something different, you know…. I mean the others are full of …”

“Douche bag art”, Michael boldly interjects. I roar with laughter. He is unfazed and remains quiet taking in how much this has clearly amused me, truly relishing the moment.

“What do mean?”,  I ask.

“You know, it’s ……………. kinda douchey. The Met has works from all over the world and is classic, and nice.”

“And above all you get it. Right?”

“Exactly.”

So there you have it. I don’t think it could have been said any better.

I think this one says it all

Even though popular culture is accepting of Modernist thinking and expresion, there is still the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes which rings true. Clearly there is a hierachy of relevance and people will still stick to what they know. I think we have spent a bit too much time proving a point that we have gotten away from what actually inspires us. Natural phenomenon in everyday life.

 

This is what happens on an average weekend afternoon in NYC

So I have been in NYC for the greater portion of my life and I have seen quite a few things throughout the years. Things that make you say, “WOW, this could only happen here, in NYC.” 

Case in point, today’s social experiment on the 6 train headed uptown at around 4:30 pm brought to you by The Underwear Brigade. No really. There was some sort of happening that I swear must have included 250 plus people between the ages of 19 and 25. They got on a crowded subway, took off their pants in a methodical manner, hung out like it’s no biggie, and got off at the next stop to hang out on the platform with the rest of their pantless minions. Repeat process.

So here is how it started: I got on the 6 at Bleecker Street to get back home after meeting up with friends in Chinatown. It has been brutally cold so the only things I have been thinking about are the layers of clothing keeping me warm, and the comfort of my warm apartment. The train arrives and to be expected it is crowded. There is a bit of a buzz and the air in this moving sardine can clearly is charged. There were a few NYPD on the train as well. I notice that in the middle of the train there is a group of people undoing their shoes and/or slipping in and out of them. I use the usual NYC logic and good sense of not staring. Right? Wrong. They were totally taking their pants off, and I was totally staring, utterly transfixed. Yup. Standing around in tidy whities, Fruit of the Loom, Joe Boxer, you name it. Shirts, sweater, parkas remained. They then got off, and joined a growing number of their cohorts at every stops until 14th street where there was a platfrom full of people just standing around… in their johns. Like nothing. Talking. Maybe gonna get a Starbucks. Who knows.

The crowd thinned out and the only bit of entertainment left was some Borat looking guy in really tight Superman briefs. Gross. I had to do it though, I had to snap off a picture because really… when was this gonna happen anytime soon.

The whole experience lasted 10 minutes. In all honesty I was quite impressed with the sheer numbers of people involved, who for the most part did not know each other, and the efficency of execution. WOW. Thanks for that.

Step 2, execution

The gathering of the hinds

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