May/122
recent paintings
smoke-shaped forest, 22x 30, ink, shellac, and oil on paper, 2012
Last week I finished smoke-shaped forest, which continues a series reflecting on the simultaneous gains and losses associated with 200 acres of land being cleared adjacent to my parent’s property outside of Charleston, SC. In such cases waste wood and plowed stumps are often stacked up and burned, and they create an eerily beautiful sight at dusk in that thick southern air. Anyone who has ever sat around a campfire knows the seduction of staring into the coals, a kind of primal reverie of thought and thoughtlessness, comfort and fear, and the clear insistence of a light in the darkness.
broadleaf plantain with clover, 10 1/4" x 13 7/8", oil on panel, 2012
broadleaf plantain with clover is the first in what I believe will be a series of edible wild plant paintings, most of which can be quickly located in urban environments. These are works about the act of foraging, which is another way of seeking a depth of experience outside of the dominant culture. But they also raise questions regarding patterns of recognition and the problems associated with the indirect transfer of knowledge. One of the classic problems of depicting plants is the method of depicting a “representative sample”. That is, the collection or photographic documentation of a single plant does not account for the inevitability of variation, and this creates a reservoir of doubt. Paintings are effective in communicating some types of specificity, but often at the expense of others. The payoff of this more “scenic” method, in my mind, is that it describes more fully a set of relationships within a given habitat. And just as my front lawn establishes criteria for fruitfulness, so does the limited context of my panel.
grackle with smartweed and clover, 14 1/4" x 17 1/4", oil on panel, 2012
grackle with smartweed and clover keeps up the thematic approach to ground-cover, and the act of looking down as a move out of the demands of the body and into the life of the mind. Because the bird’s eye is denied to the viewer as a point of reference, the grackle straddles a space between life and death.
Aug/110
EarthDance Farms Mission Award
The EarthDance Mission Awards, inaugurated in 2008, honor ordinary Saint Louisans who embody the EarthDance mission to grow and inspire local FARMS—Food, Art, Relationships, and Music, Sustainably! Each year EarthDance recognizes a local farmer, artist, community activist and a musician, each of whom make our region socially dynamic, healthier, and more inspiring, in an eco-conscious manner.
The 2011 EarthDance Mission Award winners were selected by a panel of judges consisting of: Kelly Childs of Slow Food STL; Jean Ponzi of The EarthWays Center; Roseann Weiss of RAC; and Lew Prince, founder of Vintage Vinyl Records.
This year’s winners are:
Artist: John Sarra
Farmer: Paul Krautmann
Community Activists: Veronica Holden and Sarah Kate Buckles
Musician: Ryan Spearman
On Saturday, Septmeber 24th, 7pm-11pm, join us for the Mission Awards Ceremony and Dance Party at Blueberry Hill’s Duck Room.
This event will feature appearances by, and video tributes to, the five EarthDance Mission Award Winners. Plus, you can (Earth)Dance to live musical performances by The Lulus and The Phat NoiZ Blues Band. Purchase your advance tickets here!
Aug/110
Variety Show
Re-installing the central dining room fixture-- the only time you'll actually see the fluted glass interior.
Installed, showing two of the four peripheral globes.
One of the great things about summer is that I can pursue a wider variety of projects than the school year allows. Five years ago I removed the central light fixture from our dining room while redoing the ceiling. This summer I finally got around to rewiring the fixture and replacing the sockets, as the insulation had degraded a bit since 1905. The fixture is an incredible piece of craftsmanship, composed of eleven different pieces of bronze and two pieces of glass. I had to make a template to locate the four corner loops, which actually only bears weight when the brass socket assembly is removed. This is the finest fixture in the house, and I trust that it will now be in good service for another hundred years.
The workmanship on that metal reminded me of a painting that I made for a friend last year, the image of which I am just now posting. It is a “portrait” of his gorgeous old Model 1860 Henry Rifle (.44 caliber rim fire, this one manufactured in 1862). It features a receiver engraved with “running deer pattern number one” by Samuel Hoggson, a factory engraver for Henry Repeating Rifles. But of course I was just as attracted to the figured walnut stock. 
Detail of the engraving.
The painting was an interesting challenge, as I wanted to have the rifle convincingly immersed in a landscape that I fabricated from a few photographs and my own memory of life in the Southwest. I was able to paint the rifle from observation, but used an Italian replica for most of the work because it made me nervous having the original laying around in the studio. I enjoy having plenty of room for imagination, innovation, and problem-solving in paintings. I made the rustic frame by request, and was happy with the way that the silvery, weathered surface of the white oak offset the image.
Which brings us back to wood. This summer I was able to retrieve this old church pew, which after some repair and refinishing has become the favored place to drop whatever you are carrying when you come in our front door. Although I haven’t yet been able to confirm it, I believe that the pew is made of American Chestnut. It is always a pleasure to breathe a bit more life into beautiful and useful things, but that would be even more significant “win” to me if this were in fact a remnant of the pre-blight riches that once dominated our eastern forests. I used my home-made black walnut stain to color the piece, sealed it with a thin coat of shellac, and then applied three coats of wipe-on polyurethane.
An old pew, repaired and refinished.
Jul/110
summer reading
Need atmosphere? Just add local wild-fires, and you've got a great excuse to stay indoors and read.
We’ve had our annual time in the woods and at the beach, and here are a few highlights from my reading:
CROCUS
For months now I am bleak and primitive.
The congregation of crows refutes
the resurrection of anything.
I sleep all day, drink all night.
I believe only in certainty of equations,
the curvature of space, words used merely for incantation.
This cold wind I sway in, this continual lent–
But wait, the first crocus
throws dirt.
–Nancy K. Pearson, Two Minutes of Light
ARCHITECTURE
I peer into Japanese characters
as into faraway buildings
cut from the mind’s trees.
In the late afternoon a small bird
shakes a branch, lets drop a white splash.
In the wind, in the rain,
the delicate wire cage glistens,
empty of suet.
Poetry’s not window-cleaning.
It breaks the glass.
–Chase Twichell, The Snow Watcher
Anthology
That evening I was reading an anthology.
Scarlet clouds grazed outside my window.
The spent day fled to a museum.
And you– who are you?
I don’t know. I didn’t know
if I was born for gladness?
Sorrow? Patient waiting?
In dusk’s pure air
I read an anthology.
Ancient poets lived in me, singing.
–Adam Zagajewski, Mysticism for Beginners
Don’t ask us for the word to frame
our shapeless spirit on all sides,
and proclaim it in letters of fire to shine
like a lone crocus in a dusty field.
Ah, the man who walks secure,
a friend to others and himself,
indifferent that high summer prints
his shadow on a peeling wall!
Don’t ask us for the phrase that can open worlds,
just a few gnarled syllables, dry like a branch.
This, today, is all that we can tell you:
what we are not, what we do not want.
– Eugenio Montale, Cuttlefish Bones