Category Archives: 2023

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

A: I just started a new 58” x 38” pastel painting. This photo shows two days worth of work.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* 564

Indus River, Ladakh, India

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

To travel through the peaks and valleys of Himalayan Buddhism is to become a collector of fragmented images and a teasing array of sense impressions, many of them bound to counter the stereotypes of simplicity and serenity that we expect to define a Buddhist universe. At the end of the journey, the traveler assembles these sense fragments into an individualistic understanding of what has been seen and experienced. Maybe that’s the way it should be, since Buddhism itself teaches us that each person must seek his own way to knowledge and enlightenment in this life or some other.

Barbara Crossette in So Close to Heaven: The Vanishing Buddhist Kingdoms of the Himalayas

Comments are welcome!

Q: Why do you work in series?

Bolivianos” paintings in progress and on the walls and floor

A:  I don’t really have any choice in the matter.  It’s more or less the way I have always worked so it feels natural.  Art-making comes from a deep place.  In keeping with the aphorism ars longa, vita brevis, it’s a way of making one’s time on earth matter.  Working in series mimics the more or less gradual way that our lives unfold, the way we slowly evolve and change over the years.  Life-altering events happen, surely, but seldom do we wake up drastically different – in thinking, in behavior, etc. – from what we were the day before.  Working in series feels authentic.  It helps me eke out every lesson my paintings have to teach.  With each completed piece, my ideas progress a step or two further. 

I remember going to the Metropolitan Museum to see an exhibition called, “Matisse:  In Search of True Painting.”  It demonstrated how Matisse worked in series, examining a subject over time and producing multiple paintings of it.  Matisse is my favorite artist of any period in history.  I never tire of seeing his work and this particular exhibition was very enlightening. As I studied the masterpieces on the wall, I recognized a kindred spirit and thought, “Obviously, working in series was good enough for Matisse!”    

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 563

“The Enigma,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 26” x 20” Image, 35” x 28.5” Framed
“The Enigma,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26” x 20” image, 35” x 28.5” framed

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

[John] Graham defined art as a “process of abstracting” thought and emotion by the use of paint or metal or stone. Because art was therefore intrinsically abstract, the duty of the artist would be to push abstraction “fearlessly to its logical end instead of evading it under the disguises of charm or being ‘true to nature.’” The artist created for society, he said, but if that society didn’t like what he or she had produced, the artist”does not trade his ideals for success. Martyrs and saints love luxury and success just as much as ordinary people, only they love something else even more.” Graham said, if the artist is a true genius, he can expect to be misunderstood and alone. “The beauty of genius is frightful to behold, few can envisage it. Others find subterfuge in scepticism.” The abstract artist, he said, would be repeatedly challenged by such skeptics asking, “‘What does it mean?’… Is it a sky, a house, a horse?’” To which they should respond with confidence and honesty, “‘No, it is a painting.’”

Mary Gabriel in Ninth Street Women

Comments are welcome!

Q: Can you explain how your current work relates to Jungian archetypes?

In progress: “Wise One,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38”

A: Here’s an example. The passage below is from Carl Jung: Knowledge in a Nutshell by Gary Bobroff.

The Wise Old Man or Woman is a figure found throughout folklore and mythology.  They possess superior understanding and also often a more developed spiritual or moral character.  Frequently, such characters provide the information or learning that the Hero needs to move forward in their quest.  In Star Wars, Ben Kenobi plays the teacher to Luke, introducing purpose and knowledge into the young Hero’s life.  Where the Hero brings drive, courage, and direct action, the Wise Old One introduces the importance of the opposing values of thought and questioning.  Jung describes it thus:  ‘Often the old man in fairytales asks questions like who? Why? Whence? Wither?  For the purpose of inducing self-reflection and mobilizing the moral forces.’

The Wise One may appear in disguise to test the character of others.  In the second Star Wars film, The Empire Strikes Back (1980), Luke’s mentor Yoda does not reveal himself as such when they first meet.  He waits, asking questions that test Luke’s motivation for being there.  Jung associated the Trickster archetype with the Wise One, and the use of disguise emphasizes this correlation.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 562

“Shadow,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26” x 20,” in progress

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Jung observed that complexes could affect groups of people en masse. He saw that certain moments seemed to be expressions of a collective shadow, a bursting forth of a mass psychosis; the repressed side of a whole group coming alive; a tribal Mr. Hyde. He saw this madness first-hand in Germany in the 1930s and wrote about it. But every era carries some measure of collective shadow.

One could argue that no moment in time has seen more of the reality of human darkness than ours. Having witnessed the Holocaust and faced the threat of nuclear war in the twentieth century, and now facing the environmental impact of fossil fuels and plastics in the twenty-first century, we are undoubtedly aware of more of humanity’s potential for destruction than any of our ancestors ever were. Such a view does not come from a moralizing stance. Our era has made forced witnesses of us all.

The shadow is about where we put the Devil – where do we allow darkness to be housed? Racism and bigotry offer the relief of foisting our group’s shadow onto another whom we view as lesser. Doing so enables us not to look at or feel our shadow, and not see our own worst selves. But this collective shadow of our modern culture is also bigger and wider than group-to-group projections. There are culture-wide or civilization expressions of the collective shadow.

Jung saw the widespread loss of connection to the inner life and to a lived spirituality as one of the primary illnesses of our time. He observed that people were no longer animated by the traditional religions… For Jung, this meant that we’ve lost the old way but not yet found the new, and are sitting in a spiritual vacuum.

Into that vacuum, without our awareness, has slipped our fascination with human technology. Observe people closely today and you’ll notice that we have an almost magical faith in our devices. People see their computers and phones as all-knowing and expect them to function perfectly all the time, and view pharmaceuticals as magic cure-alls. Where we used to put God, we now have put technology. Where spirit was, we have unconsciously placed human genius.

Gary Bobroff in Carl Jung: Knowledge in a Nutshell

Comments are welcome!

Travel photo of the month*

*favorite travel photos that have not yet appeared in this blog

Pan-American Highway somewhere in the Atacama Desert, Chile

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Pearls from artists* #561

“The Mentalist,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 26” x 20” Image, 35” x 28.5” Framed
“The Mentalist,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 26” x 20” Image, 35” x 28.5” Framed

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

The most powerful symbols draw profound reactions from us. The symbolic images in great art attract and fascinate us; they stir our souls and move us beyond what can be easily expressed; ‘their pregnant language cries out to us that they mean more than they say.’

The unconscious produces symbols as part of a natural process within us. These images emerge out of the context of our lived experience… Jung saw the meaning-making process as one that not only requires attendance to the real context of our lives and history, but also involves profound inner listening. It asks us to use our rational capacities, but also our feeling and imaginal ones.

Symbolic images redirect our psychic energy, bringing together conscious and unconscious material and producing the lessening of conflict. In this way, they activate a transcendent function within the psyche. We experience this as the discovery of personal meaning and healing. This transformation is not the result of formulaic operations, but rather is a dynamic process that requires our authentic and vulnerable participation. The process challenges the whole of who we are and requires deep moral effort. That the unconscious would produce moving, powerful compensatory symbols inside us at all points to a fact that our culture may not have fully grasped – that there is a force working within us which is always driving us towards healing growth and greater consciousness… Despite our suffering, the psyche is always ultimately seeking both a healthy homeostatic balance and our ever-unfolding growth and unique development.

Gary Bobroff in Carl Jung: Knowledge in a Nutshell

Comments are welcome!

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

A: “The Moralist,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26”x 20,” awaits finishing touches.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 560

"Broken," soft pastel on sandpaper, 38" x 58" image, 50" x 70" framed
“Broken,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38″ x 58″ image, 50″ x 70″ framed


*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

In describing her technique, Joan [Mitchell] once said, “I don’t go off and slop and drip. I ‘stop, look, and listen!’ at railroad tracks. I really want to be accurate.” One can imagine every stroke applied, every drizzle of pigment – both those visible in the finished work and those buried beneath its many layers – being the result of just such consideration. The majesty of Joan’s painting, which she would call City Landscape, was a quality it shared with all great art – the sense that it had always existed, and that during one inspired moment it had been dredged from the subconscious depths by a hand and mind graced with the talent and vision to retrieve it for the rest of us. That revealing work, so exuberant, so deep, so masterful, and so unlike the shards and violent explosions that had been her signature, was the result of Joan’s having survived a personal hell and her own imperfections. It was her prize for having persevered, and all who saw it were the beneficiaries.

Mary Gabriel in Ninth Street Women

Comments are welcome!