Monday, October 03, 2005

Let It Flow

In the immortal words of Spirtualized, "Let it Flow." The only reason I ever bought spiritualized is because someone said they were a current Velvet Underground, back in the mid-ninties. No matter how many minutes I spend during the day stressed out that I am in my studio making art while others are out in the world making big money, this is who I am. Ten years prior to right now, I was wandering around the streets of Burlington VT. looking for myself. I was stairing at the clouds, the lake, going into different churches, reading all sorts of spiritual literature. I was in a dungeon of insecurity. It was almost like I was seeing something that noone else was and new I was in chyrsalis. Spiritual death and rebirth is a heavy subject that entails a place words can't reach. Suffice to say in all this misery there was a certain sense of rawness a pain junkies wildest dream. I wasn't into the suffering, I just suffered and longed for clarity, thoughts of my middle-class suburban past, my existential Phish Vermont present and the ever Mysterious future loomed.
My new rule is to never talk about any painting or sculpture until they are done as they become cursed. The last painting I mentioned, "turtle earth" got buried under fresh acrylic. Things are going well with the new work,(probably shouldn't have said that.) Something that saved my spirits this past week was time spent in Nature. Last Tuesday, I was at my witts end and was so unconnected with my painting. The usual Central Square run did not do it. I hightailed it to Walden Pond in Concord MA. Hiked around the Park and saw the sun set, the next day as well. These few hours in nature melted my anxiety about everything from bills, art, future, girls, parties etc. Being in the city is like being in a kitchen and only being in the oven. You literally have to break out to realize there are other parts of the room(strange metaphor, oh well.) I did some tree hugging, tried to do a sitting meditation in the woods, but could not keep my eyes closed because of the tremendous scenery. Upon getting back to work the next day I felt rejuvinated and nourished and in line with whatever it was My sub-conscious wanted to excorcise on to the canvas. No matter what blocks that come up with my work, I thank God that I have that little tiny spark inside me that reveals itself only after I've spiritually prepared myself for its cameo. Peace, Scotty.