2016

“Low Hanging Clouds captured for me in a very physical sense the soothing and beautiful shifts in the most elemental and worldwide perceptions of our planet; the daily light cycle with its variety of soothing, majestic color and depth. Cycles that, when noticed, may allow for the catching of breath and the relaxation of the mind.

Low Hanging Clouds acts as a release valve for me. My last few pieces have been attempts at making figurative attempts at reducing the stresses and pressures of surrounding life. My previous work Conceptual Illumine was an effort to visualize a fragmented and melancholic beauty used to fill in the gaps of a world stripping itself of the ideal – wrapping itself in crude reality – imagined slights and hatreds.

Beyond the interpolations of our endless new cycle, of ugliness and pain there is the part inside that fights to own itself, to control its personality, take ownership of its actions, and search for and accept and gift love.

But the mind tires while spending days in which those closest feel the obligation to correct even the most personal behaviors and well-established knowledge and habits. It tires of being blamed for unintended consequences, real or perceived. It tires of imperfections pointed out without pause or guilt. When personality is condemned, placed secondarily to others perceived notions of how one should appear or behave. Tired of the direct and uncalled for criticism of actions entirely separate in cause and effect from the criticizer. Of intimidation frustrating and destroying confidence. Tired of the times that patience as a virtue sends the soul plummeting to earth.

“At that point the body plants a seed of rebellion, sprouting and exploding, taking on a life of its own. The soul, from its place lying in the mud and muck, the ruins, takes on its last kick, its last nudge. Rebellion explodes into the mind, things become unstable, unusable. The mind falls apart, the body brought to its knees.

When healing is a necessity for the continuation of the soul.

Healing needs a catalyst. A catalyst to inspire that catching of breath, that distraction from stress to beauty and peace, that absorption of color and silence that gives the mind that first glimpse of peace and allows for the hint of better to come. The beginnings of healing.

Low Hanging Clouds was my catalyst at the time. Even considering and undergoing the trials of its design, and the total lack of ability while it its creation phase of myself as the artist´s capability to explain it, draw it, or even at many points visualize it. I knew what I wanted it to be. What I wanted it to say. I want it to bring the light and the joy of the consideration of that special light indoors, the blues of the sky, the colors of the clouds. To bring peace to the room even when the occupant doesn´t have the time or sense to go out doors and watch. To uncage the remedy allowing for the release valve to function safely and even joyously.

Low Hanging Clouds consists of a number of Urethane clouds. The clouds bring outdoor lighting in through the use of LEDs and electronics. They flood the ceiling with skylight, and light themselves with the boldness of daylight, the dimness of a moonlit night, or the beauty of sunrise or sunset. They can mimic the outdoor conditions with the grayness of rain or the flash of lightning. They feel good and remind the soul that although the world may become gritty and complex the soul may still recharge with the song of birds, or the colors of a sunset.”

2015

The Illuminating Gateway Within Melancholy

When ideas flow, mutate, and flash with a thousand colors. When the world’s fascinations and terrors cannot hold me close, but challenge me to grab the illusion, the brass ring. It is free passage to skim troubles lightly, and allow the part of me I love best to play and inhabit magic. It’s a part that never lasts long but is always memorable. It protects me, and gives me a necessary break from a world of pressure and hatred.

Those times find me here, but not present. Mornings in bed. Driving a distance. Walking city streets. Paddling in a kayak.

It’s of great importance that this time, this advantage, not be destroyed. Not be medicated. Not to be catagorized, or boxed. Running a thin line, not in the sand, but in the air. It twists and turns as it’s fragmentation allows freedom of expression. Expression of fear, melancholy, joy. Emotion is irrelevant. Or completely relevant. The crossing the line defining creation is indistinct – yet the turning back difficult.

Deep inside there is celebratory flicker of insight as the sifting colors roll over me – as I feel myself open to the emotions of a world where the streets are quickly emptying yet individuals glow  within

It is Illumine. To light up, or brighten. Enlightenment.

Ideas.

Some time ago during its most recent iteration I re-titled the project Illumine. To light – to brighten. To enlighten. Melancholy surrounds Illumine- a light in the darkness – exposing the colors and depth of thought and emotion. Deep inside there is celebratory flicker of insight as the sifting colors roll over me – as I feel myself open to the emotions of a world where the streets are quickly emptying yet individuals glow  within. Yet I have backed up – reconsidered the change. For when I consider the work, my heart and mind still name it Melancholy. And my soul opens in its presence.