About this Show:
A musician. An impact on a soul. Flowing into the body. Mingling with the blood and moving through all its many pieces, pumping new feeling through a dry heart, breaking down the fibers of life. Pouring into a belief of emotion, and in waves of thought radiating into peace. Understanding grows, immense proportions, ripping at every direction with clear intention to form a new being within an old body. And a love for this is not optional. It just happens. Can music be such a force? Can a force be so great? Where do musicians find this food, this power? The right to release, unleash, such an energy through another person? Many people, all of us.
Stage one
Paintings inspired by songs written and performed by people that I know, by people that are real to me. I can share a cigarette with them, we can talk. Good morning. Real people to me.
These paintings are my reworking of the musicians’ emotional investment in order to find myself in what has been said. They start like a bath. Injected with my internal struggles and smothered in the vibrant freshness of old paradigms resurrecting themselves through another person’s choice of word and sound. Just me and the music in my ear. Hours spent soaking. A young boy climbs in, fueled with feelings and emotions evoked by the sounds he hears. Grabbing just one line, an entire meaning, or brand new concept, a wrinkled man climbs out.
Stage Two
Show you a world that you could otherwise not reach. Here, I am the musician and I will teach you what I cannot do by showing you what I can.
This time the paintings choose what I listen too, they tell me what strokes to use. This world of mine is theirs, and here I am comfortably alone, never needing to fully explain the things I have seen. Making a fast scratch to remind me of where I have been. Knowing full well that they will be misunderstood or poorly telegraphed, I tell the stories of my mind’s travels. The pictures on these walls invite you to observe from a distance the places I come from, places deep in the abyss of my creative person. Places where image is allowed to push past my ribs and heart, reach through my sanity and rip at my soul.
Sometimes I paint because I don’t know what else to do, because it hurts not to, because the ideas won’t stop. I don’t always know what I am making but I always feel the why. These are the canvases that paint me.
Stage 7 (seven)
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