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

 

The Cloud Lifts off the Mountain

                               The Cloud Lifts off the Mountain watercolor on Yupo 26x20


 The mountain was Mt. San Jacinto.
When the Santa Ana winds howled through Fontana CA where I grew up, the smog was ripped away and suddenly we could see the mountains that surrounded the valley. Off in the southeast was Mt. San Jacinto sitting like a ship in a harbor. Just on the other side of it is Palm Springs.
When I got my drivers license at 16 the desert was a frequent destination as long as I was back on time. A few years later I read somewhere about some canyons south of Palm Springs which were palm oasis you could hike in. I soon explored them and have continued to do so.
So in between two of the northwests recent snow storms, we flew to Calif. for some warmth. That normally parched desert was so wet, grass was growing beside cacti. Some plants were already blooming but the big show is just beginning now. It will be spectacular!

 The view from our Air BnB. It was in the Mesa neighborhood right up against the mountain.

 A view up into Tahquitz Canyon. I wrote about my first visit here when it was finally opened to the public.

Tahquitz Falls. This is a special place.

Grassy desert.

Coachella Preserve. I lived near here the winter of 1980. It was private property then but my landlady knew the caretaker and I was allowed in.  Because of the principles of evaporative cooling, one can be comfortable here on a scorching hot summer day. I may try to paint this pond with its confusing reflections.

 Murray Canyon. I had painted these rocks in 1980 and wanted to see them again. This involved crossing the creek many times. I trudged through the water with sneakers on. Much better than risking my new knee by falling off a stepping stone.

 This was a 360 photo John took with his fancy camera. It is the greenhouse at the Moorten Botanical Garden. I have driven by it dozens of times and never went in. This visit we did.

                                              [untitled] oil on Multimedia Board 12x12


 Another new one and I`m struggling for a title. The big black thing is a root ball of an evergreen that toppled in a windstorm. You see them often in our forests but are they ever called something else? "Root Ball" is not a great title.

                                                                Wil Wheaton


 A friend posted a link on Facebook to an essay by Wil Wheaton on depression. It`s a moving account of his disease when it began in childhood. Mental health is still not given proper respect even though we have mass shootings seemingly daily. Consequently, it`s not diagnosed in kids until they have suffered horribly. My own began in adolescence and it was terrifying. My parents, god bless them, listened to me and did what they could. Viable medications were still many years away so they got me involved with the local art center and I took classes.
 For adults. Like now, the people with time enough to paint are often retired. So I was this frightened kid plopped into a bunch of mostly women elders. They helped save my life as I had never been in such a dark place. Soon I had my role in life and I`ve been grateful for this answered question ever since. It is so unnecessary for children to bear depression anymore. Yes it`s serious medication but it works.
Anxiety and depression often intertwine. If you know an anxious child, ask some questions.

 No one tells me anything! Last I heard Joni Mitchell was on her deathbed clinging to life. I`m mostly repelled by celebrity but she is, or was an important artist. I`ve been hoping she pulls through as I`ve searched in vain for updates.
Looks like she did! And holding hands with David Hockney no less! There`s some good news! Hockney draws as well as anyone but I sure wish he would turn down his color!

                                                               by David Hockney

                                                                 by David Hockney

You never know who`s watching.

                                                           cartoon by Jeff Stahler




paintings in my studio for sale [updated]

prints on Fine Art America

Glacial Water + Suicide

                                      watercolor on Yupo 20x26

Another painting from my trip to Mt. Rainier.
The water coursing off the mountain is mostly melted glacier which gives it a milky look. The opacity comes from tiny particles of ground rock shaved off by the weight of the ice sliding over it. We were in a vast canyon carpeted with stones. A modest stream flowed down and crisscrossed the boulder covered floor. The mighty glacier that once filled this chasm had retreated upstream beyond our view. But it was easy to imagine.

Sadly, though he could not save his own life, Robin Williams may have saved others. I`m so hoping this tragedy will be a watershed moment in our culture and a serious, frank discussion about depression and suicide will ensue. That there is still so much stigma and taboo with these issues is appalling and pointless. We lose so many that may have been reached.
Depression was a crippling reality for me when I was young, but I was lucky to live in an age when promising research and effective therapies evolved and became available. I have been a grateful user of anti-depressants for decades. Though I never considered suicide myself, I know some who have. Each of them radiated pain like a furnace.
The subject of suicide is so utterly sad we choose not to think of it. I think that is a terrible mistake. If we are informed and understand the conditions for such an act, we might be of help.
 Our local NPR station carries Krista Tippet`s wonderful show on the many varieties of spirituality called "On Being". One of her guests recently was the poet and philosopher, Jennifer Michael Hecht, who has written the book, "Stay: a History of Suicide and the Philosophies Against it". In that one hour of radio I learned so much, including this important fact; the actual act of suicide is very impulsive.
Beyond the facts around suicide, the point of her argument is that even leaving God out of the considerations, there are instinctual and intellectual reasons to reject it. Moreover we need honest commitments with each other where we promise to stay. We stay for each other. No one leaves early. We decide to stay, if not for ourselves in this moment, but for our future selves and for those we care about. If that pact is real, I think it will follow that we will have deeper bonds and more accurate insight into the lives of others. We might be able to help one another to stay.