Sunday, September 6, 2015

"B Word" in Three Parts

Awhile ago Nori Mizukami asked me to write about how I feel about blindness. Here is my response...

Saturday, August 8, 2015

The View From Here Part 4 "Local Cluster"

The View From Here Part 4

"Local Cluster"

"The View from Here”will be posted as a series. This post may contain material dealing with sensitive topics. Rate it "R", Please be advised.

Exploring these images with words is new, more like the touch tour I once had of a Picasso sculpture, feeling the very metal, and splayed substance of its cold bulk, exploring its subtle aspects.

The snapshots are the same, with many facets, casting hues diffracting, radiating, mirrored, constructed, disnantled. I've put them here, out of the trash can of obscurity, safe for awhile. Just a few.
Local Cluster

Its palm sized, a luminous, richly hued Instamatic square, a particularly luminous one, one that seems to have an elusive tempature, one thats typical, but fixes my thin gaze tenaciosuly... frozen window, frozen sun about to set.

A girl of thirteen stands at the center, halfway down a hill. My sister Stacy, sunstruck, faces us, striding uphill in a field of low, yellow grass driven into a carpet of rounded dimples - like little haystacks.

The photographer is further uphill than Stacy, so we see an expansive sloping landscape. The light is warm orange-hued, the way it turns near the horizon before finally signing off, and at that angle where all it touches casts a very long shadow.

Her thin arms are clasped as though warming herself, her head is tilted a little regarding the photographer, just a vauge, curious smile, she squnits against the glare, her weak "Lazy Eye" not apparent, I think. Her flared blue jeans make me smile. It's 1972. Each leg is a different variation of blue, navy and pale blue.

I know this field well, but here, its fresh again suffused in gentle peace,  suffused in drama too. Each round tuft casts a long shadow. Many hundreds of graphic dimples are seen getting blurrier and snmaller downhill with distance. Whoever took this image likely didin't gave much, if any, thought to this quaility. Seemingly unimportant, this dimpled grass folds me into it's steep slope.

The View from Here part 3 "A Simple Wall"

The View from Here part 3
A SimpleWall

The View from Here” will be posted as a series. This post may contain material dealing with sensitive topics, Rate it “R”. Please be advised.

A Simple Wall

Invisible. Not apparent. Words alone give it back to us.

I sit at a dark wood desk, mostly turned away, mixing color or working on a small piece. Polo shirt and aviator glasses. Hanging on the far wall is viewed the corner of a still life painting - a table cloth's droop supporting small stones displayed like gray h'ourderves. I hold a paint brush in one hand, but have turned to face Ed, who's popped in and said "Hey!",  and caught me smiling at him. He gave me this print. I'm at art school, in my painting studio.

This black and white picture is here because of who worked on the other side of that plywood wall, seen at that edge on the left. I turn on some make-believe X-Ray vision trying to regain him from this snapshot that wont relent, ever.  Any vague smudge would do, really, any dim silhouette.  In my make believe see-through vision he is there among his stacked paintings, head bowed, lost, like me, and not lost. Claudio.

I rarely used a camera then, and was, regretfully, fanatical about that, drawing and painting were superior. And this complete lack of Claudio's image is  why I needed a substitute - not a picture of a man, but of one side of his space. Its so meager. Thirty years later not a single photograph of him can be found online.That baffles me considering what he managed to do in his intense life.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Perspectives on the Seeing With Photography Collective

The second video.

Several years ago I made a short video about our art group, the Seeing With Photogrphy Collective. Today I'm posting  this, plus another more recent one, both videos explore our perspectives and ideas we have about blindness and creativity  using photogarpahy as our medium.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Pluto at last

This latest image of Pluto was  New Horizon's last transmission before it went into a twenty hour long planned silence, while it is busy collecting data. Hopefully the space craft will emerge from radio silence later today intact, and full of new and detailed observations. Pluto is a striking world. Bravo NASA!

Monday, July 13, 2015

Excavated this spring

Onging excavations at a Roman villa in Arles France, uncovered an ancient wall mural. Here's a small fragment.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Various works, some not finished.  Developing ideasaround these and many many more right now.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Stored away

Afew months ago Nori Mizukami asked me some questions about art. Here is a response to one about painting.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The View from Here, part 2, "Snowfall"

The View from Here, Part 2, “Snowfall”

The View from Here” will be posted as a series.This post may contain material of a mature nature, rate it “R”, please be advised.

Exploring these images with words is new, more like the touch tour I once had of a Picasso sculpture, feeling the very metal, and splayed substance of its cold bulk, exploring its subtle aspects.

The snapshots are the same, with many facets, casting hues diffracting, radiating, mirrored, constructed, disnantled. I've put them here, out of the trash can of obscurity, safe for awhile. Just a few.

Friday, June 5, 2015

Recent work

Some recent work with gouache snf ink-jet prints of oil paintings and photos.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

The View From Here, Part 1

The View from Here, Part 1
The View from Here” will be posted as a series.

Some artists explore the personal or casual photo as their theme. I 'll delve in too. It's not the intriguing, ironic, or visually fascinating picture that interests me, no. Only the picture whose purpose is to remind and re-awaken, inspires this series to follow.

Casual snapsots evoke beyond their appearance. Unbound by concerns of form and freed of current trend, our snapshot albums let us time travel, the veneer of style peels away with laughter at our confidence and comfort among the hilariously outdated, Even the little paper prints now are part of another time, but their casual nature isnt, the impulse is still the same, now as then, only updated via digital media. I like to feel them though. It's one of the pleasures of time travel in the shoebox, to flip through the stacks. As great art, they fail – all- but retain their unmistakable grip,weaving back and forth with our memories and charming us with the light of a vanished world.

Being nearly blind adds to my frustration deciphering the jigsaw puzzles. Yet it compeles me also,with its dark obstacles and barriers, to gain strength, to go back again and again to take inventory.To burn in what I can't take with me on this trip. Photography impresses me, it's arms are strong.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

"Night is Canvas"

At the Light Painting World Alliance websites, you'll find the phrase “Night is Canvas” . Night is no ordinary word for me, I suffer from night blindness. It's a powerful, often frightening word, separating me from the able bodied, putting me in the folder labelled "Unable"- legally blind, asking for help to cross the street. Night, and its draining, light-less hardships, needn’t be only that. After all, the other part, “canvas” is what matters more in the end.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Carol's visit

Carol Hualin Gu contacted me recently. She is a journalist doing a story for a new publication bringing American cultural trends to the Chinese audience. Its called ”Now U SA “ . Carol,is from China ,but lives in New York City now. Carol is interested in light painting and how we as sight impaired or blind artists,go about making images.

One evening as twilight deepened she stopped by with her husband Tiger,  a [hotographer,and together they documented a night of work.

Thursday, April 9, 2015


These are all very recent and very small gouache sketches. Gouache is a particularly rich medium, being like watercolor, but opaque.The surface is velvety.

The two figures amid a reddish enviornment are from a series called "The Night Guard".

I've been starting to experiment with a new technique too, using ink -jet prints of my artwork as a starting point to complete with paint. If you use good watercolor paper it's possible, am very excited about using this combination of ink -jet print with painting, two such images are here.It's just the start

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Its March now, the frigid artic ice flows that choked the river are mostly melted under the stronger sun.

 2014 was a rollercoaster. I traveled and was fortunate enough to be with warm, good people and had two exhibitions in widely distant parts of the world. In May my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. My parents and I waited for further tests. They would come back when I was due to have my opening in Guanajuato Mexico, in a group exhibit there at the Foro Cultural 81. I wanted to cancel the trip, but dad insisited I go. He argued with me, he wouldnt let me miss this opening, despite my sadness and wanting to be near my folks. ”Go ! Go! What, are you kidding? “ I hear his words raisng in tone, even now.

 Nori Mizukami went with me, managing to carry his heavy camera gear through airport security, despite every roadblock fate could fling at him, dont ask me how he does it. Nori stayed with my friend Darius and myself at Darius'' home near the Foro. He filmed a lot, made lots of friends, and went dancing, after Darius had stopped being amusing and fallen asleep after drinking a good part of the four bottles of champagne he had bought for my opening celebration. Nori told us stories about the college club scene, which seemed beyond me mainly. The trip was good really, but I was barely hanging on. The only light painting I did, was just to kill time, my heart wasn't there. I was a wreck with worry. Darius dragged me around town, trying to find a pharmacy that sold Laetrile to smuggle across the border, because its illegal as a cancer treatment here.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Remembering Stephen

One of Seeing With Photography Collective’s original and founding artists died recently. Stephen Dominguez hadnt been in good health but I was still shocked to learn of his death at an early age. Stephen was a gentle, thoughtful and caring person, whose character can be understood in the indelable photographs hes left us. Awhile back i posted here some of my thoughts about Stephen, in a post called Two Artists. Please take a pause to briefly encounter him again,and maybe my words can enrich your understanding of his artistic creations etched into negatives.