You Need to be Known, because You are Known. "Someone is Listening".

Over the last 4 months, while I have been awaiting my new art studio in Waco, Texas to be built, I have been working on thoughts behind my next series of work. I am a story teller. I use my art, in a contemporary abstract style to create a voice through imagery.  Every series, or body of work I create revolves around a specific expression of our personal journeys and the tension that exists throughout our cultural existence. 

We all live within areas of tension in our own cultures. That tension can come from our family, our economic background, our neighborhood or city, our political affiliations or religious surroundings and of course by the color of ones skin. All of these culture defining characteristics operate through cosmos and chaos, some of them we have control within and others our out of our control. Through my bodies of work, I share these thoughts and stories from my memories, and studies, taking the viewer on a journey in my sea of thought. I want to hear your experiences within these tensions.

“Stories are able to help us to become more whole, to become Named. And Naming is one of the impulses behind all art; to give a name to the cosmos, we see despite all the chaos…..In art, either as creators or participators, we are helped to remember some of the glorious things we have forgotten, and some of the terrible things we were asked to endure...” ”

— Madeleine L'Engle: Walking on Water

Over the last few days, as my country begins to tear at its seams, and division becomes a household conversation my temperament as Madeline L’engle says, “seems a battleground, a dark angel of destruction and a bright angel of creativity wrestling…….It is a frightening thing to open oneself to the strange and dark side of the divine; it means letting go our sane self-control, that control which gives us the illusion of safety. But safety is only an illusion, and letting go of it is part of listening to the silence, and to the Spirit.”

I have been listening to the silence in the midst of the noise. The silence is asking me to tell the stories of those in the struggle. As a white American male, I have only a small, extremely small taste of being a minority, being persecuted for my religious beliefs and witnessing the effects of hate, pure and evil hate. (to clarify: not in America) I have lived in other cultures around the world. I have lived in Communist cultures and have been persecuted and followed by police daily in that culture for my religious beliefs. I was harassed and provoked, as they wanted me to become violent. If I had, I have no doubt I would have disappeared and been imprisoned. I cannot even imagine the fear I had in those moments being a part of everyday life for someone. I worked in Rwanda with orphans of the Genocide months after the genocide had ended. I saw what the effects of real evil and hate towards others looks like in the faces of children. These children who were raped, beaten, and observed their families being slaughtered.

I know what it feels like to be powerless in the hands of another, I was raped and sexually abused as a child. This is something I am often silent about, but in order to have impact, to have a voice, to listen well, we all must be vulnerable and transparent with another and so I am opening my past, my life to you, in hopes you will do the same with me. Some of us have witnessed the devastation of human beings, and have been held captive to it as well. These moments make us who we are, and our stories together build strength. We know what exists inside and outside of our fragmented cultures and we know where these wounds can go without healing. We, the broken, know the importance of that healing.

For my next series of work, I want to tell the stories of those who experience hate, violence, racial prejudice, or religious persecution. I am asking for individuals to be bold and share their story with me. My voice is my canvas and I want people to observe with new and different eyes what others have to live with, in the best way I know how, through art.

Share your story with me, you need to be known, because you are known.

My series will be titled “Someone is Listening” because I am listening. I am praying. You can share your story with me at samo4prez@gmail.com 

“I love, therefore I am vulnerable.”

— Madeleine L'Engle : Walking on Water

Budapest: Day 11: It All Comes Together.

It is 11:15pm in Budapest.

My mind is swirling, my heart is weeping, and my eyes are watering my cheeks.

I can hear the wind outside, which means I can feel life around me.

My focus of thought the last few weeks has been revolving around Cosmos in Chaos: The Harmony of Spirit and Matter. Tonight, those thoughts have come to an abrupt defining moment in time. I wrote this poem the day before on the bus after a few hours in the studio as I made my way to the far reaches of Budapest.

All things reaching, striving, breathing,

noticing each other,

all things know harmony,

all things wish for light and life,

balance and air,

wind and touch and taste,

dirt to skin, lungs to dust, blood to water, ocean to song,

all things know.

The husband of a friend of mine is very near the end. She and I met through art and social media, close to 12 years ago (maybe). She happened to be connected to a few dear friends on mine from over the years and we hit it off, due to our love for creating. We had the chance to share coffee and conversation once in San Diego, discussing all things life and art. She is a few years older than myself, which is a rarity, most of my friends are quite a few years younger than me. A few years later, after we met, she ended up moving to England where she met and fell in love with her soon to be husband.

On May 23rd, 2014 her husband was involved in an accident on his scooter while riding back home to the family after a day of mountain biking and good conversation with a close friend. He suffered a broken pelvis, femur, jaw and arm as well as traumatic brain injury. I never had the opportunity to meet him in person. We had emailed back and forth a few times as when he was working on a Kickstarter project for a Font book he was creating. We never did hop on the phone, something I was looking forward to, I know we had a lot of similar loves in the world of the arts and music. He had a son that he brought into the new family when they married and a few years later my friend and her husband had a beautiful daughter together, making their family equal the number four.

(That is a quick historic overview of my friends story, since I have known her.)

Over the last 2 years I have payed very close attention to her wonderful blog that has chronicled their story and journey post-accident. He never returned home since the day of the accident. For the last few years he has been in hospitals recovering and declining and never fully recovering his old self.

The vulnerability and honest emotion she shares on a regular basis is as true and real as our blood and tissue. A rare glimpse into what we all feel, see, show and hide deep inside ourselves. Sharing the things that most people are too afraid of releasing into the air.

Cosmos in the Chaos: The Harmony of Spirit and Matter…….every second of the day, I think on these words. 

There is a reason I am sharing this story tonight. I came across a video that she posted today from the hospital room  where one of his friends sang “Fake Plastic Trees” by Radiohead to him. (He was moved to hospice this week because his body is in sepsis and his organs are shutting down.) His son sat close by watching his father, she and her mother held each other across from them, at one moment she leans over and kisses his face whispering words that arent heard on camer. I don’t understand their pain. But I feel the suffering and the love, both equally powerful and refining on their own terms. My tears pour down my face and I watch, singing quietly, swallowing hard and also recognizing a pure feeling of love in the looks on the faces, in a spirit on the screen. I am in awe of the perseverance of her story, standing by him the last two years, pushing through the extremely difficult moments and there were many, only to be surprised by extravagant bursts of joy filled moments along the way. She honestly and wittingly writes of every emotion as she welcomes you into their story. You can visit the blog here: http://sansoxygen.com

Here is the video: Fake Plastic Trees:

Where and why do these roads intersect?

We are born into this world from womb and water. 

We leave this world through ash or soil. 

The Cosmos may welcome us, bringing us from the chaos into things unimaginable. 

Our spirit exits in this world to become one with the Creator. 

For these reasons line plays such an important and defining role in my artwork. Our story fills in the moments between the first mark and the last. Straight, crooked, up and down, sloppy or perfectly straight. All stories are different and many stories converge. As lines cross, touch, cover or cross out, they are reacting like our human stories. Moving across a sea of open white or a river of rushing colors. Tonight I realized a line that has come across my own has taken me to a thin place here in my room in Budapest. In a moment, through a song, through a face, my world and the divine have met; for only a brief moment. They met, and I am now different. I am again new, and changed. Tomorrow I will paint these thoughts in the studio, and listen to “Fake Plastic Trees” while my emotions, through prayer, will lift up Allison, Vernon, Maki and Justine.

“He who works with his hands is a laborer. He who works with his hands and his head is a         craftsman. He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.” —Francis of Assisi

-1:35pm the following day.

My morning took a little while to get going. I read for a few minutes, spent time in solitude and prayer. I knew that my day working in the studio would be heavy, so I needed to be prepared. I created a playlist that I titled “Cosmos in the Chaos”, that held some songs that I felt reflected my thinking and the world of Allison and Vernon. You can listen here: COSMOS IN THE CHAOS PLAYLIST. 

My time working today felt like a 16mm film. My hands, heart and head felt scratched and dusty, flickering through the chaos moment by moment. I knew that I needed to be obedient to the work. I think I did just that. Madeline L’Engle sums up my time today.

 “In art, either as creators or participators, we are helped to remember some of the glorious      things we have forgotten, and some of the terrible things we are asked to endure…

 The artist must be obedient to the command of the work, knowing that this involves many     hours of research, throwing out a months works, of going back to the beginning, or,             sometimes, scrapping the whole thing.

When the art means even more than the artist knew they meant, then the artist has been        listening. And sometime when we listen, we are led to places we do not expect, into            adventures we do not always understand.” - Madeline L’Engle

This video is from my morning session. After reflecting on these things I created the piece for my exhibition here in Budapest. "Cosmos in the Chaos: The Harmony of Spirit and matter: When All Things are Made New Again."

Thoughts move heavy from this chaos,

the electric rush of rivers swarm,

the heavens breathe down from the cosmos.

as gravity holds us to the dirt,

the journey moves onward

in search of sweet harmony

between the spirit and the matter,

to the sea, 

to the sea. 

"An Attempt to Breath" a new painting.

Here is a time-lapse of me working on my latest piece, "An Attempt to Breath"-

Would love to hear your thoughts below:)

The Second Half of Life.

Going home at 40 years old is never easy. Walking back into childhood memories, sights, smells and sounds that are now filled with age and hallways of fleeting moments. There are plenty of things that are missed, and just as many things that you can never get back, or even make up for.  Growing older is a lot more difficult than I imagined. It feels lonelier, more segregated and isolating.

With my folks as a little guy.

I had a number of absolutely insane goals as a kid, really far out ideas and dreams. The crazy thing is that I have literally achieved them all! Some of them are goals that people laughed at and said, “that would be great kid, but don’t get your hopes up” type of dreams. I feel like I still have something major to do. Some great and massive adventure to go on. I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe I am in it right now. Who knows? Maybe this is just how it works as you get older.

My childhood was incredible. It really was amazing. My parents loved, cherished and supported my every move. Even when I was a complete asshole and spent more time away from them and the family than probably 90% of kids in the world. I have two amazing brothers that looked up to me and loved spending time around me. Friends that you could only dream about, who I still keep up with to this day. (and miss on a regular basis- you know who you are) I had teachers, coaches and mentors that believed in me, pushed me, encouraged me, and I worked hard for them in just about everything but math!

My Brothers and I. One of my favorite pics of us ever.

My high school art teachers: The Legends: Toby, Kim and Mario.

I think ever since my wife and I returned from the mission field in China I have changed, drastically. I lost something, left something, some part of me over there. I have really tried hard to be me since 2008, but there are broken pieces scattered across the globe that I can’t seem to recover. I have become more introverted (ask my closest friends, the old me is anything but), quiet, constantly disappearing in thought.  I used to be loud, full of energy, even a little crazy at times (in a good way). Of course certain friends bring it out in me instantly, but life, it has not.  These emotions, these thoughts I try hard to capture on canvas. These lost pieces, this tension that exists in aging memories, it separates the whole of me breaking off pieces that leave wounds to heal over time.

Mande and I in Xi'an China.

I have seen a lot in 40 years. I have been around the world, laughed and cried a lot, and never stopped dreaming crazy dreams. As Appleseed Cast “Hanging Marionette” plays in my headphones…

    “And the stars are burning bright, 

     The smoke is rising high, 

     The stripes are on the street, 

     From the mountain to the sea.”

...I am beginning to share these stories on canvas with color and word, my adventure on this second half of life.

In the studio.