Kismet is another word for destiny- which is depicted here by the warm sky, turning to a dark red swirling center. All of our lives have a certain destiny- ever evolving and changing. It is always before us in the distance- at times ominous, other times hopeful- but always inevitable. Our lives will happen and end and this is inescapable.
What we have is an infinity (profusion) of choices before us, which is depicted by the vast sands, full of paths and journeys. Victories, pitfalls, joys, pains, memories, dreams and nightmares are all laid out in the millions of choices we make.
Though there are many options, they all lead us to our eventual destiny in the distance- or maybe it is not as far away as we think.
Image inspired by this photo by my good friend who travels the world, Wayco Beckman:
The Fire is inside the house but it is not burning it up. It is also expanding and growing out side the house, swirling in the sky. To me, this painting is about that passion or drive that we have- at times burning us up inside. When it has a chance to get out, it only grows and becomes more fervent.
For me, this passion is art. It has always been art, and I hope it always will be. I shouldn’t say always, because I wasn’t born doing art- it was only through my schooling that I discovered my passion for art, specifically oil paints. I remember some passion driven art pieces going all the way back to a cotton ball and crayon creation in preschool. I had such a vision for what I wanted to make with the materials! (It was an alien ship). This continued, but flitting from medium to medium until my mom found a box of oil paints being thrown out and brought them home to me to try. It was love- true, burning and fervent. That was 20 years ago and the passion has only grown. It has not consumed me but spread into the atmosphere around me.
The waters begin to rise. You panic. You rush around, trying to stop it. You pray, you plead, you fear. But they continue to rise. And rise. And rise some more. Until you can struggle against it no more. It is happening whether you like it or not. And finally you slow down in exhaustion and acceptance, and you breathe. You peacefully remember that your head is still above water, and you can still breathe. And that is a blessing.
Sooner or later, the waters will recede. Your life might be unrecognizable from where it was before, but does it matter? You are still in there. And once the waters drain, you will be able to see, if only a little at a time, what you should do next.
Our histories, memories and experiences are all woven together to the fabric that colors and guides our decisions, days and futures. They all touch other memories, connect, blend and effect each other. One thing leads to another, leads to another. They all come together and make us who we are, waking, sleeping and decision making. Speaking, praying and thinking to ourselves in those quiet times. The joys and the tragedies are all there, whether conscious and clear, or mostly forgotten and hazy. Each one is our own personal heritage and powerfully guides us as we continue on.
This painting is called The Mountain Pass and is inspired by the always stellar photography of my friend Wayco Beckman. I have been inspired by Wayco’s photography over and over again through the years, so much so that we are planning a joint show of his photos and my paintings this summer.
For this painting, I focused in on the line of the road shown in the photo. In the photo, the sky is cloudy and the top of the mountain is covered with clouds. This inspired me to swirl the sky in subdued (for me) colors, and to emphasize the line of the road by keeping the shapes in the foreground.
I called it The Mountain Pass because the road/line seems perhaps a bit treacherous, but probably necessary to follow anyways. Like most things in life that are difficult, the accomplishment is usually worth the challenge or the experience gained along the way.