Dreaming, dragons, and a dog

I remember first drawing the scales on a dragon when I was a sophomore in high school.   The repetition at the time was frustrating.  Looking back now , I see the foundation for a style to come. There is great freedom in being able to create without worrying about the image.  When ever mark is purposeful, there is nothing incorrect.  There is something that has always been very identifiable about dragons.  The story that I see portrayed in this image is one of a dog sleeping on a woman, and a woman sleeping on something that becomes a dragon while they are dreaming.  A lot of myths about the dragons have them protecting something. Maybe I'm protecting the dreams of the ones sleeping on me.  Or maybe the dragon is my dreams.  The force that protects my life dreams while I'm sleeping until the point in my life that they a able to become realized.  Maybe this is an image about a realized dream trapped in a moment.  The dream of having 2 creatures so full of trust and love for you that they will fall asleep on you.

Progression of a dream

We all have dreams and so many of our dreams are left unfulfilled and unfinished.  This is one reason why I'm not letting the feeling of incompleteness to influence my desire or decision to work on something.  I feel like so often I get lost in the recognizable, and forget about the smaller details that lead to the finality of a piece.  I feel like what often gives "art" soul is not necessarily in the clarity or perfection of an image,  but at in the recognition of humanity and honesty present in the works.  I feel like art across the ages has always been about attempting to portray the soul or most ephemeral aspects of something. The clarity within the individualistic nature of lines of the line maker is asunique as someone's signature. It's as though it could be a thumbprint hidden within the nature of each individual line.

Dirty inspiration of commonality

I originally was interested in the shapes that were visible in the dirt on the side of the car.  Something about the stark contrast between the dirt and and the bright red was really captivating.  The cool thing about seeing things hidden in every day objects and patterns is that I've noticed it's a improbable skill.  The more you see,  the more you are able to see and with a greater level of detail. It's not only clouds that house wonderful hidden images, but everything around us seems to remind me of something else.  I personally believe that this is the case because of the commonality between everything.  It's all the same atoms, electrons, and basic building blocks that are slightly arranged in a different order.  More interestingly,  I want to know what others see in the drawings that put onto paper.  It's nice to be free enough to let your thoughts wonder and see where they end up.

Faces in the lines

It's a nice feeling to look through a series of lines and see what jumps out from the page.  When each line dictates the next, and when there is a constant desire to achieve spontaneous creations,  it's rewarding to see what is able to come into existence with little help from you.  It gives each peace a sense of being something grander than itself.

Title

It is tempting to place labels and titles on so many things.  When a label or title is applied to something,  it allows the observer the luxury of not having to apply discernment or self analysis to an item.  It's much easier to follow what someone else has already decided what is "good, bad,  pretty,  ugly"   or anything else.  I believe that everything is equally good and equally bad at the exact time.  I feel it is not in the definition process that life gains meaning,  but in experiencing it.  All of life is in the perspective that we choose to see it in. 

Dreaming

I love observing time.  Each dash and line is in it's own way a record of time. While there is often something of interest that initially catches my eye,  I feel like that works as a framework or skeleton that that time is measured or built upon. The best measurements are those that are could be measured in some way. Snowflakes,  leaves, any small object counting the seconds away of life.  I feel like I'm simply measuring the way I interact with my world.  Every heartbeat, hair that falls, or breath is simply a physical representation of the microscopic change that is our cells and mitochondria that is ticking away until this form that we inhabit transforms into something else.  Watching any entire short life of an animal start to finish, really makes you question your own mortality and what is really important in life.  Maybe the purpose of life is in the moments where we take naps with our dogs?

Three brothers

When 3 eggs and 3 sperm start out so similar, I almost wonder if there is really all that different in the end.  It's almost like light fractured through a prism that creates the different colors that we see.  It is all the same, but just a different perspective of the same idea.  I wonder if the whole population is a prism of some cosmic unifying force? I look at me and my brothers and and wonder at our differences.  It makes me think of quantum theories and parallel universes.  If every thought is capable of happening in some universe,  then maybe everything and everybody is just like a fractured beam of light from a unifying central point of commonality. 

Nothing is original, everything is temporary

The concept and desire to achieve originality in art is a continuous struggle.  The attempt to place greater value on some items and declare others as less important seems to be the very antithesis of what creation should be. With the earth's minute impact on the cosmic universe,  it seems almost laughable that we feel we have the authority to claim anything.  When the earth's existence is but a fraction in time compared to that of the cosmos,  it seems ridiculous that anything is possible.  I feel like everything is equally capable of infinite beauty and it's only in how we choose to look at it that it's beauty is revealed. The beauty is capable of being seen in the moments that it is witness.  Any attempt to recreate it is but a ghost or shadow of the original beauty.  While that moment of being is continually fading away, I feel it necessary as the human race to attempt to achieve or replicate those moments.  In this attempt to continuously move forward,  is where the beauty of evolution lives.  The continual progression and improvement of an idea, thought, or species is the very act of creation.  I feel it is wired into our DNA,  and by not attempting to create or improve something we are fighting our very basic animal/ spiritual nature.

Running with sesame at night

Topless and barefoot I move through the night like a shadow of a ghost of the people who circle the park lake.  My companion follows and inspires my feet forward.