November blur

November went by as a blur, and not just because my birthday is in that month. I took a trip downstate in my newly repaired van. Originally, I planned to go to NYC, but didn't get past Kingston, NY; and the Catskills. My friend Philip Lekki is working in a gallery there called "Seven 21 Gallery" (from the address, of course). It's relatively new, but filled with incredibly talented, capable people. I definitely want to stay in touch with them. I feel a tug, as when that internal voice drones, the one that's always correct. I think it will be a good network. I made some strong connections.

I came back to Buffalo, played a gig, and woke up sick the next day. It lasted 2 weeks, but I managed to build a couple walls in the front gallery. Not the kind that separates, but the kind which distills, as the knife of a good editor. It made a medium sized space smaller, but more intimate and cozy, in a way. Also, it's much cleaner visually, which is important in the art of presenting art. The added bonus? I also have a big room to use as a studio, and it's perfect for winter heating. I made three walls in all, one of which is movable.

Philip is an old friend, you might say a mentor. We are separated by almost 15 years, but have never felt a difference in age. I have learned a lot from him, and vice versa; about art, but also about life in general. When we speak, we often have epiphanies. Sometimes they're pretty absurd. Sometimes they seem absurd because they're so obvious, like great comedy. Some people have insights in the bathroom. For me, it's usually while laughing, or walking, or both.

That got me into trouble as a child. I was often being chastised for being humorous at inappropriate times. You know, desk out in the hall, detention, things like that But, that's what kids do, that's how they figure out what's appropriate (hopefully). To me, life was always funny, in an absurd way. Then I discovered tragedy. I read "Bury My heart at Wounded Knee". I was clearly too young. For a while, life wasn't funny anymore. Then a funny thing happened. Life became even more funny, because I understood why absurd things were absurd. Funny.

I hosted an exhibition for the "Jay/Jon Charity Show", in which the artists, Jonathan Rogers and Jay Carrier, gave away some signed, numbered prints of paintings they had collaborated on. It was a fun opening. In addition to new work, Jonathan brought his "Racing Death" series, and Jay brought a number of huge originals. We got a nice mention in Gusto, from Mary Kunz Goldman, in a story about what to do on Friday the 13th. She and her husband were here for the Jackie Jocko show (more about that later). Good people.

Introduction

First of all, there will be no appearances of deities, or end of the world speeches here. The title simply means I want to offer words of personal insight. Whether or not it is insightful is another matter. I picked up something years ago from Patti Smith, one of my favorite writers, who likes to use religious references. Only, I like to separate the pious connotations, and use the literal meanings of the words, thereby liberating them from their chains.

I was born an artist, and I will always be an artist, regardless of everything else. Music is in my soul, and is my most primal, direct expression, save personal intimacy. I began playing in the school orchestra in 4th grade, on trumpet. I played that until high school, then quit lessons, and bought an electric guitar. A really bad one. Many of my friends were in bands, in Kenmore, in the 70's. It was my first love, music. Well, that and...

But, I grew up with art. It has been in my family for generations. I always loved to draw, even as a child. I began painting at Buffalo Arts Studio in 1992, or 93; and have always had an idea of sound and vision together: music and video, music and painting, music and words, painting and words. I painted with my guitar, showed videos in a gallery, painted on stage during performances, read poetry, and made strange recordings and tape loops with cassettes, VHS, and reel-to-reel. To this day, I am searching for new avenues of discovery in art, but also in life.
I am a spiritual person, who grew up Catholic, but who is not religious. My other favorite writer of this particular persuasion is Jim Carroll. I have nothing against the bible itself, an incredible collaborative work. But, there are so many others, as well, such as the Tao, for example. Life is too short to limit myself to one biased view, when there are so many other biases to discover.

I am primarily an artist of different genres, or disciplines; but ironically, the more I immerse myself in making art my life, the less time I have for actual art making. I'm hoping that it will all make sense one day. In any case, my motto is that life is profound, tragic, and beautiful, but that we need humor to keep perspective. So, sometimes we have to leave our ego at the door. For future reference, the following...

"Apocalypse" means:

-revelation; discovery; disclosure. (according to my grandfather's 1959 American College Dictionary - sorry, Dictionary.com missed it completely). What it really means is that your world is changed, or is destroyed, whenever you have a new discovery. Creation is also destruction. Destruction is also creation. C'est la vie. If you want to attach a god to it, so be it. At least it's poetic. But, don't blame the messenger...

An epiphany is:

2.	an appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity.

3.	a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

4.	a literary work or section of a work presenting, usually symbolically, such a moment of revelation and insight.

1. "Epiphany" (capital "E") is a Christian festival commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles in the persons of the Magi. (for what it's worth) January 6.