Pride 26

                                                        Low Tide acrylic on Nara 18x12 inches

  Here I am. Some dark nights of the soul in this new year. Mental health is health and fortunately I`m from California where we get help if we need it. No stigma. I was able to call in the calvary too by virtue of an annual Medicare 'wellness' check. This remnant, woke bit of Democratic governance provided me practical, local contacts. Thanks Obama! For the first time in my life I questioned whether I even wanted to paint anymore. This caused a loss of identity that was really not comfortable. I`ve always felt extremely lucky to never have identity issues. But what do I want from my painting practice in this later part of my life? I`m still grappling with that but I do know now that any resolution will come from the painting process itself. What I`m losing interest in is the livelihood part especially. The 'career' stuff.  I never was focused enough on the professional strategies to advance much, I own that. For now and maybe from now onward, I don`t even want to think about shows or open studio tours.   

     From lots of reading and conversations with friends and professionals a way forward is becoming more clear. Those loved ones older than me have been particularly encouraging. The adaptations involve examination of things I took for granted. I`m learning this 'late life' is a time of 'being' more than doing. The race was won, I can relax.

  So I`m questioning now the utility of this blog [18 years old next month]. If promoting my work is less of a priority, is the journaling aspect of this enough to keep up the sporadic effort? I`m not sure though even as I type this I`m remembering all of the personal social benefits this blog has brought me. Significant friendships at a time when I didn`t know many people in my new community.

                                                              photographer unknown

  Randall and John, blessed to be gay and to find each other. As teens we had no imagination for how the world would change. May it change even more.  [photo by Leo Rijn]

 This Pride month of June has some joy and hope again, the tide has turned. Cruelty, ignorance and greed have not been defeated of course but they are not overwhelming the country like they were a year ago. The stoic citizens of Minneapolis broke that wave in the dead of winter. The arrogant, foolish war on Iran further undermined the hateful goals of this power obsessed administration. Republicans using the trans population to enflame and deceive Americans may be faltering too, I hope so. Trans culture is critical in understanding the complexity of gender in human relationships and expression. It is not black and white. Give the LGBT folk in your life some love. We are everywhere.

                                                                      David Hockney

  Speaking of pride. The late David Hockney was a true role model in being a gay artist. It was literally a matter of fact and he never hid it, apologized or explained. The confidence to be so boldly himself when homosexuality was still criminalized in the UK, I believe came from the loving relationship he maintained with his parents throughout their lives.                                                                                           As a landscape painter with plenty of opinions I`ll just say I took issue with much of the color in his later paintings. What I admired the most in his work was his ability with drawing. As good as Van Gogh and Rembrandt.  His first I-phone drawings were so inspired and he did them with his finger! He loved to draw! I wish I had more of that urge. What drawing I`ve done has always had a research element to it and less one of pleasure. It`s been wonderful to read so many accounts of his personality and work ethic since his death. His life sure looked like a work of art to me.      

                                           by David Hockney, one of my favorite paintings

                                                         Mt. Adams 1 wc 9x12 RDTipton

                                                         Mt. Adams 2 wc 9x12 RDTipton

                                                            Mt. Adams 3 wc 9x12 RDTipton

  We were in Hood River recently and I had forgotten the clear close view of Mt. Adams available on the west side of town. Just stunning. I bought some actual cotton paper [not plastic] to paint these on.

 I really don`t have much to show for the last few months. Painting only recently began to feel right again and I don`t want to burden the impulse with ambition. I`m figuring out this next part of my life slowly.

                                       Wetland Winter Tangle acrylic on Yupo 20x26 inches

  I`m teaching myself how to paint with just acrylics, like I used to before 1984. They haven`t changed much, they still pale in comparison to the immediacy of oil paint but the medium is much more suited to paper and I`m committed to working on paper. I`ve always been more comfortable with it and it is much easier to store. The problem for me is the weaker pigment load in acrylics. I continually need to repaint sections over and over. I`m doing it differently now.

Arthur Sze, 25th U. S. Poet Laureate 

                                                                     sunset on Mars

#whatisrememberedlives

Click HERE for work for sale in my studio

 

New Year with Resistance

                                  Dry Falls California, watermedia on Yupo collage 26x20 inches

                                           Masirah watermedia on Yupo collage 18x12 inches

                                          Rajasthan watermedia on Yupo collage 18x12 inches

Three good collages in one week! I haven`t had a nice streak like that in a while. Many of you know that rare experience in making something where everything just goes right into place. All the choices could work but one does especially well. Enchanted is the feeling and it is intoxicating. Unexpected too at this pivotal point in our [US] history. Not since the Vietnam era have things seemed so volatile. God bless the people of Minnesota!

 Nurses are sacred, they are the helpers. That is what Alex Pretti was doing when he was murdered. Assisting a woman who had been gassed.        This will not stand. 

There is enough unity to decisively say this is not the country we want. Often we know what is unacceptable before arriving at a neutral civil place. Everyone is on edge but it`s clear to me, immigration enforcement will have to change tactics. Their Proud Boy dreams are not going to fly. If the Republican party wasn`t so cowardly at its core they could rein in this deranged president. Democrats bounced their sitting president when it was finally revealed how unstable he was. Democrats, despite their feeble opposition now, actually do care about the constitution. The one they swore their loyalty to. What a bitter fact that the only people who can actually do something about his terrible political moment are Republicans! So patriots will resist until the mid terms, then there will be a reckoning. So sorry world. Our government is messing up EVERYTHING.

If you haven`t seen it, this response by the wise young Amanda Gordon can help your heart;

 

Have you been watching Kilauea? OMG such non stop beauty! I saw a video shot during a rainstorm that was beyond imagining. Smoke, mist, swirling air borne cinders, engulfing clouds then red embers in a blue sky. The eruptions are numbered and the last one I observed was 41. Take a look, it is dazzling and happening in real time in the 50th state.

                                                      Bandon oil on canvas 40x30 inches

Bandon has the best beach for kids in Oregon. So many caves and hiding places.

                                                                  by Josh Mecouch

                                                                          Josh Mecouch

I love this guy, what an original.

                                                                          Emily Ball

                                                                              Emily Ball

                                                                       Emily Ball

She is new to me and I was quickly taken by these poetic abstractions. The three here are from a series called 'Longing and Sweet Sadness'. The painting were created in response to a particular piece of land and transitions in her family. Here is what she has written about them;  

This body of work has the theme of 'Longing and Sweet Sadness'. The focus began in 2021 but really galvanised and gathered momentum after the death of my father at the end of 2022. I drew and painted in the woods at the back of my parents house. This is where I played as a child, making camps and exploring. It is where I made huge paintings for my degree show after the hurricane of 1987, when I was in my early twenties. It is the place where my children played, camped and went on bluebell walks every year when they were small. It is where I walk now when I visit my mother.

                                                                      by Garry Winogrand

This photo says so much about children and also New Mexico.

I was 22 when I moved there and it was like shifting into a dream. A common experience for most newcomers. 

                                         A Corner of the Park acrylic on Yupo 20x20 inches

Someone I love has begun transitioning. As open as I thought I was, there was so much more to learn. This post by the BBC explains things well.

If broadcasters say they want clarity on sex and gender, then clarity has to include biology in full, not selectively.

Being trans is not an ideology. It is not a belief system. It is not a trend. It is a recognised biological outcome of human development.

Sex differentiation in humans is not a single switch flipped at birth. It is a multi-stage biological process involving chromosomes, gene expression, hormone exposure, receptor sensitivity, and brain development, all occurring at different points in fetal growth. Those processes do not always align in the same direction.

Every human embryo begins on a shared developmental pathway. Later in gestation, hormones and gene activation guide the development of reproductive anatomy. Brain development related to identity, self-perception, and body mapping occurs on a different timeline. When those processes diverge, a person may be born with anatomy that does not align with how their brain understands their sexed self. That is what we call being trans.

This is not controversial biology. It is documented in endocrinology, neurobiology, and developmental science.

Neuroimaging studies have shown that many trans people exhibit brain structures and neural response patterns that more closely align with their lived sex than with the sex recorded at birth. Intersex variations such as androgen insensitivity syndrome and congenital adrenal hyperplasia further demonstrate that sex itself is not a simple binary. These are natural variations of the same biological system that produces everyone else.

When media coverage reduces trans people to slogans or treats identity as a purely social preference, it erases that biological reality. When it repeatedly frames trans existence as “contested” without explaining the science, it invites suspicion rather than understanding.

If journalists are going to say audiences find terms like “trans woman” or “trans man” confusing, then the responsible response is not to strip people of accurate language. It is to explain why those terms exist in the first place.

Clarity does not come from flattening complexity. It comes from explaining it.

There is a difference between saying sex is observed at birth and pretending biology ends there. It does not. Biology is a lifelong process shaped by development, hormones, and the brain. Ignoring that does not make reporting neutral. It makes it incomplete.

Trans women experience misogyny because they are perceived and treated as women. Trans men experience gender policing because they are perceived and treated as men who violate expectations. Gender-diverse people experience both because rigid systems struggle with anyone who exposes their limits.

That harm is not theoretical. It shows up in healthcare access, safety, employment, and mental health outcomes.

If public broadcasters want to be clear, then clarity must include this truth: trans people exist because biology allows for them. They are not an exception to nature. They are part of it.

Reporting that fails to say this risks reinforcing fear rather than informing the public. And when fear is left unchallenged, it does not remain neutral. It becomes harmful.

Accuracy is not just about legal definitions. It is about telling the whole biological story.

Anything less is not clarity. It is omission.

Daniel Lismore

Click HERE for work for sale in my studio

abstraction, landscape and patriotic boycott

                                   Forest Conversation watermedia on Yupo collage 12x12 inches

 A pattern is quickening. I`ll work with one medium until I hit a wall and feel like its properties become too onerous. The drying time of oil painting, the severe edges in collage or maybe the frustrations of blending watercolor on Yupo, something gets in the way. Usually this happens after intense effort on a piece that refuses to resolve. So I try to just move on. Failure is normal and there have been many lately. My tendency has been to brood and question all my life choices but I just don`t have time now. More than ever I just require motion, the act of painting, to feel whole or even stable. 

                                              Hafnarfjordur watercolor on Yupo 26x20 inches

 Nine years after my visit to Iceland, I`m starting to paint it. All I have to work with are photos and memory but fortunately, Iceland creates a vivid impression. It`s easy to remember how I felt. Often it doesn`t seem right to paint a landscape I`m not personally intimate with, but even that principle is too confining. Who cares?

                                                                    Andrea Lopez Chen

 I was driving to an appointment in Tualatin recently and this thing [electrical box of some sort?] grabbed my attention. On the way home I found a place to park and walked back to it. The color was what first appealed to me but when I got closer I saw the bull. It is stunning!

   Prominent attribution too which is nice. It is at the entrance to Tualatin Community Park, You can`t miss it.

A multi-level buying boycott that has begun. Even more than our votes, how we spend our money is a hugely political action. To put the breaks on the runaway Trump catastrophe, I`ve imagined that something massive involving the economy would be required. I hope this is successful enough to repeat. Money is about the only thing that the powerful listen to.

Remember shopping at locally owned businesses is ok.  In my region, the employee owned grocery store, Winco, is ideal. If you can only do one thing in your economic boycott, don`t buy anything from Amazon. I realize they`ve become indispensable, but there are alternatives. Our household is now Amazon free and it was not easy. 

Winter issue, yours truly featured in an article written by Michael Chesley Johnson, a well known plein air painter and writer. We talk about my trial and error methods using memory to guide me. It can be purchased here. When there is a newer issue, I hope to have a link to the article I can include within this blog.

Somehow I bumped into her on Instagram years ago. Andrea Gibson, the poet, died of ovarian cancer last July. Her four years of treatment and hope is the subject of a new documentary called 'Come See Me in the Good Light', streaming on Apple TV or Prime Video. It`s a good story, the transformation of an agitated artist into a fearless advocate of love. Early in the movie she spoke a poem about a soul grieving the loss of its body, how it would gladly take on a toothache....vey moving. She noticed the small things and shows why they matter.

With her permission I posted this poem a couple of years ago. So to the point it`s like scripture;

she really touched some nerves.

 She stayed as long as she could.  God bless Jane Goodhall. 

                                                   Autumn Fog  oil on canvas 30x24 inches

                                        Canyon Pool watercolor on Yupo collage 13x10 inches

                                                     Roadside 2 oil on Yupo 26x20 inches

                                                                                

 With so much terrible destruction in my country now, I found the AIDS Memorial, by chance, a counterweight of sorts. Reading the stories about these very young men has been actually cathartic. Of course I remember the times but a deeper look into individual lives and circumstances has been meaningful. What is under appreciated is how the epidemic came right after a massive, historic sense of liberation. Finally we could live openly, without shame. It was a claimed freedom and not bestowed by any authority and [unsurprisingly] was deeply resented. This reversal caused by disease and with so much suffering is almost beyond imagining now. It was like war.

Often these tributes are written by close friends and often by relatives who were not yet born at the time of the death. The groups hashtag is #whatisrememberedlives . Some of those memories are extraordinary; 

“This is likely to be an unusual post. A straight woman and a gay man. She was his 24 year old ballroom dancing student, he was her 40 year old dance teacher. Little was she to know the impact this man would have on her life.

At that stage of my life, I was an unhappy, unfulfilled and disillusioned person. With the benefit of hindsight, life had dealt me a series of experiences that had denied me self-esteem, self-respect and peace of mind.

One day on my way home from work, a path I had trodden many times, I randomly looked up and saw a sign ‘Arthur Murrays Dance Studio’ on George Street in Sydney. It was the beginning of a life changing experience.

I became the studio owners student. Howard Smith Greening. An outrageous, incorrigible, loving, fragile, talented, stunning human being. Who happened to be HIV positive.

Howard lived life at full tilt. An Oxford Street Queen, he frequented clubs, parties, raves he took pills, had random encounters with strangers, loved to travel, and dance. And could that man dance. When we danced together it was poetry.

We did a comp in Perth to a routine he choreographed. Travelled from Sydney to compete. He and I had a tiff during rehearsals, he stormed off with great drama. So the pressure was on. We took the stage a day later and all the pieces fell into perfect place. We were so ‘connected’ movement just flowed from our bodies in perfect unison. Exhilarating. The experience reduced him to tears. Seeing him cry over our performance was the most remarkable thing. So humbling.

Howard was the first person in my life who loved me without rules. He showed me life could be fun and not just hard and confusing. He taught me to be defiant, challenge the status quo. Look life right in the eye.

I would come into the Studio 3 to 4 times a week. Sometimes dance, sometimes just hang out with him. We’d do the daily crossword together. Drink coffee, so much instant coffee!! Talk, laugh, gossip.

He never told his folks he was gay. It made me sad. He said they wouldn’t accept it. I wonder how his mother feels about it now she has cradled her son in her arms as he took his last breaths. AIDS is a cruel and painful death.

I could never feel sad around Howard. His life force was so powerful his aura and his smile would instantly lift my spirits. And he was generous with his smile and his laughter. He had his dark moments, we all do, but they have faded from my memory.

He pushed me away when he started to get sick. It broke my heart. But he knew what was going to happen and he didn’t want me to witness it.

I have a photo of us together at one of the balls we went to, it sits on my dressing table. I think of him almost daily. He reminds me to live my life, be cheeky, dress well, be charming but show your teeth when you need to and that it’s ok!

I named my business after him. Whoosh Consulting. Whoosh … that was how he entered a room … whoosh …

Howard taught me how to love another person for who they were. No agenda, no rules, just love. What a legacy to leave behind!

My darling Howard, you are the most amazing thing that ever happened to me. I am unbearably grateful for the time we had and for your continued love beyond the realms. I can’t imagine my life without your influence. I am awesome because of it. I am a reflection of all the good things about you.

I will love you forever and I miss you every day.

In memorial Howard Smith Greening, born Chain of Ponds SA 5th December 1953, passed 1st October 1995. 42 years young. Whoosh ….”

I had to laugh seeing this photo, it is so accurate. This is a good dad too, he remembered to feed his baby. He looks just like one of my best friends who did indeed father a child in the 1980s. This is a snapshot of the working class culture I grew up in.

                                                                     Bob Stuth-Wade

I was researching a different artist when I came across Bob Stuth-Wade. Here was realism but with a vision. The emotionally powerful work stopped me in my tracks. We slowly began to correspond and I learned we are the same age and were raised to be good Catholics. One of the most interesting things about him is he bought his house in Texas while still a teenager and raised his four sons there. He seems to be a true Renaissance man, an artist who can build anything and do many other things. He also bought a collage of mine which meant the world to me.

                                                                     Bob Stuth-Wade

Almost time.

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