in august

in august i feel as if i cannot breathe.  it's ok.  it will go away in september.

yesterday we learned that next to every few hair follicles in our skin there is a tiny muscle that is triggered by our senses and perceptions of reality. when we are chilled or have fear, all at once these hundreds of tiny muscles pull together like louvers forcing our hairs to stand on end.  the action causes the skin suspended over the surface to dimple. they create a field of goose bumps - a new landscape.

how much do you notice the air around you? the changes in pressure, the wind? where is your brain?  in your hands, in your feet and the tiny split nerve in your middle finger?

i may not paint bodies, but perhaps i am really painting figures in some way, because what is a landscape if not an area of a body's surface that reacts to our imaginations? perhaps i am always painting a territory at minus 10 to the 10 times x; hills and valleys that open up forever. 

so in august, due to body memories, my skin is more imaginative.  it over-reacts.  it stands on end, not because of anything that is happening at the moment, but because skin has memory.

skin is a landscape.  skin can burn like a prairie fire that heats to be renewed. it is a territory with marks and boundaries and places to dig.  a place that is hot, pouring out, and spreading because it has no place left to go.

so i paint. 

will be at the upcoming show
at One Twelve Gallery
i will also have 10 additional new pieces on view.