About Me

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Michael seeks to create works that reflect his struggles with the world he finds himself living in, and the commonalities that we all share in this. Desire, Defeat, Acceptance, Judgment, Love, Fear, Time, and Space. Michael's studio is downtown Los Angeles in the Spring Arts Tower. "Happiness is that funny little place halfway between fantasy and reality." -me

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Moving On...

Sometimes you just need to sit with something. Let it be as Paul sang to us. I think of how far we travelled since walking down to Yasgur's Farm. Is this the Dawn they sang of? We hardly left the Dawning when suddenly soothsayers of all sorts chanted 2012 and the end based on the Mayan Calendar, and who knows what all else. It is entirely possible that the Mayans just thought "you know, perhaps 10,000 years is long enough. Can I just stop recording the future days at 10,000?" It doesn't end Kids, it just changes. Evolves. Evolution is Gods work anyway. You may be ready for it, you may not. You may need to sit by the side of the road and take a breather and let it settle before moving on, but you need to move on. Read books on Kindle now, because that's where it's at. Listen to music on computer, because that's where you can keep all your favorites. Skip commercials all you want to on your DVR because they will still find you when you google search. Anything you ever searched for, or bought online will suddenly pop up in the column to the right, you can't fast forward the shit. It will follow you, so keep up. Keep ahead. Try.
Yeah it's a long way down that dusty road where you first met a Child of God. Joined a rock n roll band. Road cross country on a bus to Altamont, and we all know how that ended. Prescient don't you think?
You can't have the good without the bad I guess. We haven't learned to just accept the good without manifesting a barometer of bad to prove to us that it was. We need to period the sentence with a tragedy? Why is that? What if we could let it be. Don't judge, watch, listen, allow. Detach. Be here. Don't be here. We are stardust, we are golden, we are the garden, and the Earth she turns, and turns, and keeps on turning...rolling along that great gravity wheel. Free ride. Moving on.

The Road and All That Is
Oil on Canvas, Tire, Rope
Dimensions variable based on hang length. 
2005





Thursday, September 8, 2011

Simultaneously September, 2001.

I am obsessed with Time. The endless march of it. What it gives you and what it takes away. How it is controlled by the space it inhabits. How it stretches out endlessly corralling all it owns in the vast reaches of space. It is simultaneous. All the Masters tell us All That Is, is simultaneous. It exists, and not, always.

I will never be able to lose sight of the idea, the images, and the stories of those who left the Twin Towers high up in the air before they fell. In my mind they will be forever caught up. I believe they left before their bodies were thrust out of the buildings. I believe they were all caught up, those who stayed inside and those who leapt. I believe that God caught them up, protected them, brought them home. They flew out long before the shell of their bodies ever returned to Earth.

My favorite images of the Twin Towers are from when I would lay down at the base of one of them. Laying down on the pavement, my head up against the foot of the building and then looking skyward at the enormous length of it. The immensity of the Tower running out of the full scope of my vision closest to me and trailing away as if only an idea from my sightline into the sky. The distance incomprehensible even though it is easily measured. 110 stories.
When the Towers were built their future was designed into them. They existed before they were built and will exist forever after. Their creation and construction is a part of what they were to become even though no one knew the outcome of their story. They are simultaneously linked to what they are, what they contained, and what happened. They are a parable for all of our lives. We each contain the story of our outcome within us, even though we don't know what that is, it is also simultaneous. Our memory provides us with the long look back. Our future towers beyond us but is also here right now, corralled by Time and only lays out before us. Closest to our field of vision taking up all that space and then trailing away into the great distance out from us into the beyond. As if you could lay your head at the base of your Life and look up into your future. You know where you are, what you are made of, where you have been, where you are grounded. You know all that came before you in your Life because you experienced it, but what about that long trail that shimmers into the sky? That endless, beautiful ribbon? The part you might have notions of, and the part that is measurable at the end but at this moment is enormous and incomprehensible. The painful beauty of it astounds because our attachments and emotional lives are so intertwined with our experiences but when all is said and done will still come crashing down around us. A ribbon collapsed. A chain un-taut. The DNA of us, of our Life. All that made us up, who we are, were, became, did and died. Simultaneously existing beyond Time and her space, beyond her reach. Caught up by God, protected and held close. All That Is.

These ideas were at the time beyond my comprehension. I was so pained by those who leapt from the Towers, ejected by the force of the heat, the smoke, all of it. I still am. It is enormous and beyond my measure.  So I painted them and waited patiently for time to pass which would allow me to gauge them, and understand what they contained, were made of, and meant. We may never knew the entire story of the Twin Towers, 9/11, what they were and what was lost. We have them collected into our consciousness and Time will slowly reveal their story as she marches on, trailing like a ribbon all they contain for their full expression. What will never be revealed are the people in her story. They were caught up by God. Out of Time's reach. They left before their great collapse and went Home, but are simultaneously linked forever into our memory of what happened. As painful and difficult as that may be, but part of it, and expressed powerfully.

Caught Up
Oil on Canvas
24" x 40"
2003


Deus ex Machina
Oil on Canvas
8' x 6'
2003


Lambda
Oil on Canvas
7' x 5'
2003


Pi
Oil on Canvas
7' x 5'
2003