Thursday, December 17, 2015
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Review of late images
Uggh. How difficult it is to link all the created identities from the birth of the internet to one soul? From my attempts this morning, it isn't possible. It is looking like, the hotmail address will win out because it is linked to this blog, and this blog is too long and invested in to abandon. Maybe I'll be able to work it out in the future.
What is coming out of the creative studio? These last couple of years have been spuradic. I have moved around a lot. But, lets get to it... As it goes, returning from my break into abstraction, I came back in with a strong desire to make reality pictures, mostly landscapes. I had to work out some issues concerning aesthetics in painting. I needed to figure out how to bend my mind around resolving issues of landscape simply, without getting too complicated, flat, and boring...
Cone Elevator CO OP, 7"x11", acrylic on mdf, 2008.
For the most part, I was able to extract what I needed to see in order to resolve contemporary aesthetics from abstraction that make a picture "interesting"; but, for the most part, most of this work was failed crap. The friction between the two aesthetic poles in my mind is noticeable. Concerning realistic or narrative images, I struggled between the power dominance between the less interesting aesthetic of self-taught realism, and the far more interesting abstract languages considered in academics. While on an adventure in Big Bend, I was able to make resolutions to this conflict of dimension and aesthetic language, composition and subject matter in cattle paintings.
Sierra Madre, acrylic on paper, 19"x23", 2010.
Great exercise pictures, cattle, landscapes, but time to get on to real narratives and say something. Below, is an oil painting titled "The Breaking of The Last Horse" painted in 2010. It is a reference to the spiritual/moral decay of the United States. The distant background depicts a "paramount" landscape like those of Big Bend, beneath, a small version of Washington D.C., burning. In the middle ground there is a sea of misguided souls with their leader waiting in anxious anxiety for the final foot to drop, the Pale Horseman to catch his horse and ride, bringing about the complete end of a nation. This was a painting foraged in despair, and as a warning of the prophetic times. It was also rendered in a time when I was doing open air landscape studies in Big Bend and, therefore, rendered in oil. It was signed in cursive with my full name in the lower left with the Latin "anno Domini", which is an annotation referring to when an age in the Christian Calendar has past. This was a signature technique observed by the old masters. This picture was rendered over the winter of 2009 and completed in early 2010. The below image is a poor digital representation with a hard light burn on the sky, as it were, this painting was sold to a man in Tampa, Florida, and shortly afterwards, all accurate documentations of this painting were lost by the artist...
The Breaking of The Last Horse, oil on canvas, 30"x34", 2010.
This post has been review, I'll post more soon... Follow me or comment. Ask questions if you have them.
What is coming out of the creative studio? These last couple of years have been spuradic. I have moved around a lot. But, lets get to it... As it goes, returning from my break into abstraction, I came back in with a strong desire to make reality pictures, mostly landscapes. I had to work out some issues concerning aesthetics in painting. I needed to figure out how to bend my mind around resolving issues of landscape simply, without getting too complicated, flat, and boring...
For the most part, I was able to extract what I needed to see in order to resolve contemporary aesthetics from abstraction that make a picture "interesting"; but, for the most part, most of this work was failed crap. The friction between the two aesthetic poles in my mind is noticeable. Concerning realistic or narrative images, I struggled between the power dominance between the less interesting aesthetic of self-taught realism, and the far more interesting abstract languages considered in academics. While on an adventure in Big Bend, I was able to make resolutions to this conflict of dimension and aesthetic language, composition and subject matter in cattle paintings.
Great exercise pictures, cattle, landscapes, but time to get on to real narratives and say something. Below, is an oil painting titled "The Breaking of The Last Horse" painted in 2010. It is a reference to the spiritual/moral decay of the United States. The distant background depicts a "paramount" landscape like those of Big Bend, beneath, a small version of Washington D.C., burning. In the middle ground there is a sea of misguided souls with their leader waiting in anxious anxiety for the final foot to drop, the Pale Horseman to catch his horse and ride, bringing about the complete end of a nation. This was a painting foraged in despair, and as a warning of the prophetic times. It was also rendered in a time when I was doing open air landscape studies in Big Bend and, therefore, rendered in oil. It was signed in cursive with my full name in the lower left with the Latin "anno Domini", which is an annotation referring to when an age in the Christian Calendar has past. This was a signature technique observed by the old masters. This picture was rendered over the winter of 2009 and completed in early 2010. The below image is a poor digital representation with a hard light burn on the sky, as it were, this painting was sold to a man in Tampa, Florida, and shortly afterwards, all accurate documentations of this painting were lost by the artist...
This post has been review, I'll post more soon... Follow me or comment. Ask questions if you have them.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Scene of the Blind man in the desert.
Script:
In the battles of searching the man and his spirit. By moonlite night walking. With brushes in hand; lack of sight for directions. ears only, skin to guide. Feet that long for the drink of water. That still spurn on the will of man into the drifting of the night. Into the nocturne of man. As much so as she. As she would be the unending depth of all sea. Of all sea's?
wonder's blindly:
"Memory."
Enter's the character, speech:
Nocturne of the desert.
"Did you believe you could paint better than I?
Pan away-
From a man speaking to no one there.
"Did you think you would have what is not even mine?"
laughter
laughter.
Man speaks:
"I believe," looking blind eyes for the sky of the moon, "still, I believe".
Character places material before blind man.
says of the character, "Then try. Try with these materials. If you can. Paint better than I." Mockery. The manner of the character as the man fumbles for the shape of things in the sand.
"Your times are over. Never to return. It's useless to even try. You cannot paint better than I. No. Not ever."
The man tries.
Among the cold night of the darkness he begins to draw what he sees. The character kicks dirt at he and his work, disapproving at it's simple beauty, Character snatches up the piece from the trembling hands of the blind man. His eyes fixed with envy, he stares into it.
break to show art:
Time passes-
The blind man again fumbles to bring forth another.
Quickly the character snatches away his utensils. "That's enough! You will never paint better than I! It will not be allowed!"
The character spits, and once again kicks dirt in the face of the kneeling man.
"I'm leaving your dumbass to die out here." - Taking all supplies the character retreats, turning away he leaves the scene, mumbling curses for the man. The trail of feet sound dies slowly into the night. The blind man stumbles up to his feet, his eyes look again for the moon, for the sky. He walks on toward the direction of the moon.
low the music sounds
Cut to the rising sun of the Bofecillos. Man stumbling towards the heat of the sun, hands running across the spine of cactus; falling, getting up, still blinded, stumbling. Falling to hands and knees the man is done. Alone in desolation.
A voice speaks of an ancient tongue:
(Culimnation of many tongues speaking the same thing)
"Be healed, my son."
The man's sight is restored. Blinking into the recognization of the sand. His white grit of pearl teeth crack with joy. His hands grasp the rock and sand, his eyes water like rivers of fresh wells. The voice reminds again, faded, as if continuing about a walkway;
"You are healed my son."
The man lifts his restored eyes from the ground:
His face is focused upon, eyes fathoming their interpretation, disbelief? Wonder! Shear fascination. He stumbles again to his feet. Blind, perhaps, again already his motions resemble those that are without eyes. The man moves forward:
Revelation of standing horse in sun:
He makes his way slowly, for the close proximity of the waiting horse, standing in the place of the sun. The Last Horse. His ride has come for him...
The seal is broken.
to be continued
The Age of the Gentile is Over.
anno Domini.
In the battles of searching the man and his spirit. By moonlite night walking. With brushes in hand; lack of sight for directions. ears only, skin to guide. Feet that long for the drink of water. That still spurn on the will of man into the drifting of the night. Into the nocturne of man. As much so as she. As she would be the unending depth of all sea. Of all sea's?
wonder's blindly:
"Memory."
Enter's the character, speech:
Nocturne of the desert.
"Did you believe you could paint better than I?
Pan away-
From a man speaking to no one there.
"Did you think you would have what is not even mine?"
laughter
laughter.
Man speaks:
"I believe," looking blind eyes for the sky of the moon, "still, I believe".
Character places material before blind man.
says of the character, "Then try. Try with these materials. If you can. Paint better than I." Mockery. The manner of the character as the man fumbles for the shape of things in the sand.
"Your times are over. Never to return. It's useless to even try. You cannot paint better than I. No. Not ever."
The man tries.
Among the cold night of the darkness he begins to draw what he sees. The character kicks dirt at he and his work, disapproving at it's simple beauty, Character snatches up the piece from the trembling hands of the blind man. His eyes fixed with envy, he stares into it.
break to show art:
Time passes-
The blind man again fumbles to bring forth another.
Quickly the character snatches away his utensils. "That's enough! You will never paint better than I! It will not be allowed!"
The character spits, and once again kicks dirt in the face of the kneeling man.
"I'm leaving your dumbass to die out here." - Taking all supplies the character retreats, turning away he leaves the scene, mumbling curses for the man. The trail of feet sound dies slowly into the night. The blind man stumbles up to his feet, his eyes look again for the moon, for the sky. He walks on toward the direction of the moon.
low the music sounds
Cut to the rising sun of the Bofecillos. Man stumbling towards the heat of the sun, hands running across the spine of cactus; falling, getting up, still blinded, stumbling. Falling to hands and knees the man is done. Alone in desolation.
A voice speaks of an ancient tongue:
(Culimnation of many tongues speaking the same thing)
"Be healed, my son."
The man's sight is restored. Blinking into the recognization of the sand. His white grit of pearl teeth crack with joy. His hands grasp the rock and sand, his eyes water like rivers of fresh wells. The voice reminds again, faded, as if continuing about a walkway;
"You are healed my son."
The man lifts his restored eyes from the ground:
His face is focused upon, eyes fathoming their interpretation, disbelief? Wonder! Shear fascination. He stumbles again to his feet. Blind, perhaps, again already his motions resemble those that are without eyes. The man moves forward:
Revelation of standing horse in sun:
He makes his way slowly, for the close proximity of the waiting horse, standing in the place of the sun. The Last Horse. His ride has come for him...
The seal is broken.
to be continued
The Age of the Gentile is Over.
anno Domini.
"Absolutes"
They will come around again.
I purchase with money and time.
Time I don't have.
I trade my life to see them grow.
To have them seen.
Hear their statements made.
"We are the end of abstraction.
We are the other extreme of Supreme."
I wait for the combonation.
I can see it working like the gears of the clock.
I wait patiently.
For the combonation of resource and time.
They tell me their history.
Where and Why.
I say, "The statements you make are your own ending."
No reply.
They know that already.
That is fine.
"Abstraction is dead. We are The Last"
A revolution is a rotating point on a wheel.
Each round a revival of time.
Challenges already begun:
Refine definition of real.
Define position in time.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Familia
Well... that's a deep subject...
There is so much to report here I don't have a good idea about where to begin. The last I was posting to this site with any regularity I was living life as an artist on a West Texas ranch working for little pay and trying to upgrade a blown up computer. What since? I took another job with my fiance, got married, had a baby, spent weeks converting an old barn into a studio space out northeast of Austin, TX, worked there until realizing that it was an Agri-Capitalist-Elite-Slavery job that completely sucked 110% of energy to do this and other creative work right out of me, rendering the new space useless! I held on the best I could, but in the end it was my newly wedded wife who brought me to the realization. Where to now? Back out West. But not so far this time. I'm relocated to the region where it all began, just West of San Antonio, baby, wife, and all. Working on another shop to house my endeavors and looking for a job. Maybe the tornado will leave me alone for awhile. This moving around all the time is killing me, makes my eyes really tired... Nomad.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Re Establishing Contact
Dogs outside my window
Cold winter day
Rain drizzes down
Hard,
From time to time.
But, still,
They frolic and play.
Cold Winter Day.
poetry by Justin Warren Graham
Hello, "cookies", in French this means, "Fucker's" with an emphasis on the "er's", and what that means, a reference to you, the reader, it addresses you! Hello, Fucker! How are you!
Memories of a Frenchman I once knew,
And,
Still do
To my friend, Benjamin Marchal;
Eah, fuckeir, how are you?
FROM: Justin in TEXAS.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Children, Friends;
Welcome back. Indeed, the splashing of cold water will shock the body and therefore the mind to places unseen by the imagination. And such things will do by the echoing of life and age. Experience.
I'm wracking up the XP now! The Golden Book of Life declares;
"He who finds a wife, has found a great thing, And obtains favor from the LORD.", (Proverbs 18:22).
And so, I say to you fuckeirs reading this now,
I am married, life has changed muy rapido,
que paso, le bambino?
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Blogger's Drought
Well, still no new site for transition. This is still the only place for me on web where writing like this is taking place. I think I would like to have a place to publish all the original pages for my volume's of sketch books from over the years. That is around ten and counting, writing, drawing, free mind rambling. This site is going to be extremely shy on posts this year, my how it has flown by! The last for months, since the July 30 Mongo show, have consisted of a complete life makeover which have frozen all efforts in art. The 2011 ice age. No video's to list either, except this one about some art from the last show...
Anyhow, I got a lot of good responses from this vid, and I'd like to make more, more of everything. I'm just not certain where this road is going as it concerns my art. I know where the art was heading, know exactly what the objectives there are about, subjects, compositions, asthetics. But, the life road is the one I'm fighting against, the world.... hmm, for some reason they have rarely worked together in my case, art making and the path of life. It seems like if you want to be a real artist you have to go live under a bridge and do dope all day, or go 100k into debt to the government and be an art professor, or be filthy rich with nothing in life to worry about. None of these apply to me, at least not right now... but I summarize that any could apply tomorrow. I think the greatest weight I have, is the lack of productivity in the art world does not keep up with the extreme sense of urgency that I carry in my gullet. It creeps up into the bottom of my heart all the time...
Anyhow, I got a lot of good responses from this vid, and I'd like to make more, more of everything. I'm just not certain where this road is going as it concerns my art. I know where the art was heading, know exactly what the objectives there are about, subjects, compositions, asthetics. But, the life road is the one I'm fighting against, the world.... hmm, for some reason they have rarely worked together in my case, art making and the path of life. It seems like if you want to be a real artist you have to go live under a bridge and do dope all day, or go 100k into debt to the government and be an art professor, or be filthy rich with nothing in life to worry about. None of these apply to me, at least not right now... but I summarize that any could apply tomorrow. I think the greatest weight I have, is the lack of productivity in the art world does not keep up with the extreme sense of urgency that I carry in my gullet. It creeps up into the bottom of my heart all the time...
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Old Static from a Disconnected Television
Power On
Firing up here again. Life? Well, I often refer to the analogy of the whirlwind for good reason. It is the symbolic parody of how my life goes, and lately, the wind has swirled heavily and thrown things far into the air, but not in a terrible fashion. Sometimes, destruction, and chaos are the Almighty's way of correcting things, placing things where they should be in order that they, or them, as in, "His children", may once again be blessed.
My applications in West Texas, Big Bend region, (I always have to clearify because the Texas Panhandle is also West Texas), have been placed in the refridgerator for awhile. Redford was great, and my plans to return there are still high on the futures market of my ambitions, and I had fun in Brewster County, La Frontera (Slaughter) Ranch but it was hard to get paid for work out there. And during the last two years I have been desparate for money, not only to survive and continue making pictures, but to upgrade things needed to continue with computer communications. Those who have followed these writings know this.
Last July I hosted a successful art show in San Marcos called The Sons of Mongo with George Zupp http://www.chickendeadchicken.com/ . It was a boost in confidence and in badly needed sales and public relations. Visit George's website, he has been talking about it a little there...
Since then, I have relocated to Granger, Texas, for a new employment opportunity on a grass fed beef opporation. Yet another barn to convert into a studio.
I'm analyzing the prospects of a new blog site more worthy of paintings, a final output position. I anticipate that I will keep this one alive for writing purposes. Then there is always youtube: http://www.youtube.com/user/Judadiah?feature=mhee which I find great for documenting and hinting toward the under story of Who.
I've also been tinkering with this possibility: http://www.justin.tv/judadiah It's a streaming site I've been practicing with, however, I'm not happy with the playback quality nor the lack of info provided in order to upgrade... but the idea is kinda there... we will see.
hmm, this site puts me off, it doesn't apply links in the words I write. I might be through here...
Firing up here again. Life? Well, I often refer to the analogy of the whirlwind for good reason. It is the symbolic parody of how my life goes, and lately, the wind has swirled heavily and thrown things far into the air, but not in a terrible fashion. Sometimes, destruction, and chaos are the Almighty's way of correcting things, placing things where they should be in order that they, or them, as in, "His children", may once again be blessed.
My applications in West Texas, Big Bend region, (I always have to clearify because the Texas Panhandle is also West Texas), have been placed in the refridgerator for awhile. Redford was great, and my plans to return there are still high on the futures market of my ambitions, and I had fun in Brewster County, La Frontera (Slaughter) Ranch but it was hard to get paid for work out there. And during the last two years I have been desparate for money, not only to survive and continue making pictures, but to upgrade things needed to continue with computer communications. Those who have followed these writings know this.
Last July I hosted a successful art show in San Marcos called The Sons of Mongo with George Zupp http://www.chickendeadchicken.com/ . It was a boost in confidence and in badly needed sales and public relations. Visit George's website, he has been talking about it a little there...
Since then, I have relocated to Granger, Texas, for a new employment opportunity on a grass fed beef opporation. Yet another barn to convert into a studio.
I'm analyzing the prospects of a new blog site more worthy of paintings, a final output position. I anticipate that I will keep this one alive for writing purposes. Then there is always youtube: http://www.youtube.com/user/Judadiah?feature=mhee which I find great for documenting and hinting toward the under story of Who.
I've also been tinkering with this possibility: http://www.justin.tv/judadiah It's a streaming site I've been practicing with, however, I'm not happy with the playback quality nor the lack of info provided in order to upgrade... but the idea is kinda there... we will see.
hmm, this site puts me off, it doesn't apply links in the words I write. I might be through here...
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Slowly Returning to the Blog
New computer, ladies and gents, therefore I'm relearning everything. Mostly, video production. But, also, I've been producing a bunch of paintings for an art show coming up in San Marcos, Texas on the 30th of July, 2011. It will be a two man show with George Zupp. Also, life is still moving along, still working way out west at La Frontera Ranch, Slaughter ranches inc, in Texas. Happy to be alive, things are going well. Keep reading and subscribe to my video/youtube channel, it's my preferred choice of discussion forums, I hope to branch out into streaming at some point. See you later... click the title for more...
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Clear!!!
Well, I took a little vacation from this site. Finally, I acquired the resources to change computer platforms and that has consumed a lot of time. Also, I've been evaluating the progress of this blog as well as others I energize, like facebook and youtube, to determine the future directions of each and how they might one day become integrated.
I'm working on a few projects for other entities I'm involved with, such as La Frontera and the Slaughter Ranch, a Hunting outfit, and of course, A new body of paintings, with a show up and coming in San Marcos July 30th, 2011. There will be more as everything settles and computer files become converted and organized, and new video software learned, but the last three months have been focused on the brush in the paint.
I'm working on a few projects for other entities I'm involved with, such as La Frontera and the Slaughter Ranch, a Hunting outfit, and of course, A new body of paintings, with a show up and coming in San Marcos July 30th, 2011. There will be more as everything settles and computer files become converted and organized, and new video software learned, but the last three months have been focused on the brush in the paint.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tell Stories
I'm adding this post on the 31st of March, 011 to try and keep up with a weekly write in here at the Operation. The purpose really is because this has become a live diary of sorts where I talk about my problems and tell my heart to the air, talk about my life and what's happening, anyhow.
Life truly is a roller coaster ride for some, and there is no roller coaster like the one that has no worldly security. Ye-Haw! You never know which way that bull is going to buck, till he's got you on the ground giving you the gore through a kidney.
For the last several years my goals have been to acquire enough stability to keep a studio and make paintings. However, life today makes that really strenuous, there's alomost no real security to be found! Truth is, it has never existed on this earth, short of Adam's fifteen minutes in the Garden of Eden. But, you've got to keep swinging the bat. Tomorrow's the first of April and by then I'll discover weather or not this ranch deal will stick. Meantime, I'm working on some pictures that are about my last few years of experiences, a time when I lept into the void to chase after my goals and dreams, a body of work that reminds me of the art of my youth. It's a lot of fun. I'm doing my best to get some money together for a new computer, a mac! But for now it is only paintings, and I no longer feel comfortable talking about them until the entire body has ran it's course and done. That said, here's a teaser:
Life truly is a roller coaster ride for some, and there is no roller coaster like the one that has no worldly security. Ye-Haw! You never know which way that bull is going to buck, till he's got you on the ground giving you the gore through a kidney.
For the last several years my goals have been to acquire enough stability to keep a studio and make paintings. However, life today makes that really strenuous, there's alomost no real security to be found! Truth is, it has never existed on this earth, short of Adam's fifteen minutes in the Garden of Eden. But, you've got to keep swinging the bat. Tomorrow's the first of April and by then I'll discover weather or not this ranch deal will stick. Meantime, I'm working on some pictures that are about my last few years of experiences, a time when I lept into the void to chase after my goals and dreams, a body of work that reminds me of the art of my youth. It's a lot of fun. I'm doing my best to get some money together for a new computer, a mac! But for now it is only paintings, and I no longer feel comfortable talking about them until the entire body has ran it's course and done. That said, here's a teaser:
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