I’m a child of the 1960s, born during the Eisenhower administration. grew up with Leave It To Beaver & The Brady Bunch. remember where I was when I heard about JFK. remember The Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show & the landing on the moon. too young for Vietnam. still lament classic rock turning into disco. was only 10 years old during the Summer of Love, wondering what the big deal was.
So that’s what I carry with me. that’s my art. the stuff that came just before those times. the stuff that came during those times. the stuff that came just after those times. that’s what I love. that’s what I paint. it’s nostalgia. it’s memories. it’s a little revisionism. because as I look back on it all, I now appreciate lots of stuff that happened more than I did then. & the stuff I DID like back then; well, that’s become almost a religion to me.
I paint to remember. I paint to appreciate. I paint to mock. I paint so others will remember the same things as me. I paint to start a conversation. I paint to look back & cry, or laugh, or smile, or be a wee bit embarrassed. it’s funny how some things that seemed so important, don’t seem so now. & other things that didn’t seem important, have become so in the interim.
Sometimes I’m commenting. sometimes i’m simply observing. sometimes i’m actually making a statement. sometimes a painting tells a story, or makes a joke, even if it’s by accident.
Look at my art & remember. & smile. & laugh. & cry. & start a conversation with me. that’s really all I want. let’s have a little exchange about things we both like & know & think. ‘cuz that’s what it’s all about.
Unless that’s not it at all. maybe I just want to sell some art to make money.
Is that so wrong?
