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Dark interlude, shifting sands
Recently my work has moved from a lighter view of people in their daily encounters to an examination of people foundering in the ruins of their lives in homes built on shifting sands. As politics vacillate and our foundations quake, many cannot swim or stay afloat; and many others teeter on erratic fulcrums. These stygian canvases I now employ seem the right ambience for these troubled souls. My references to buckled houses, to the many natural disasters that have beset southern California, and to playful dancers fronting a burning house, speak to the issues of ruin, hedonism and a hunger for material things which blinds humanity to the destruction we perpetuate on our home, our only home--this planet. These tortured people who have fallen prey to the habit of torturing themselves are dark targets of a life I know too well. The somberness of my work in value and subject matter has been, for me, brightened by the delight I feel when employing the painting process and the elements therein; the color, value, shapes, etc., on the roughened shady surface of my canvas. The joy of painting is thus closely entwined with the pain which springs each day from a perusal of the morning news, and somehow alleviates the pain. This strange ill-mated dichotomy has forged for me a meaningful experience these past many months, and not unlike Jacob's wrestle with the archangel, I feel I have wrestled with the art angel.