Resurrection

I remember a radio broadcaster in our home type declaring on January 1st, 1970, that he hoped the Seventies produced some worthwhile music, because the sixties sure hadn't.
Even at eight years old, I couldn't help but wonder if this guy ever listened to anything but the sound of his own voice, because there was a lot of music my sister and I danced to... and it all came from the sixties.
'Resurrection' is an on oil on canvas (36” x 24”) that speaks of a different perspective: the inner voice of creativity. I painted it about four years ago and it has hung in my studio ever since as a reminder about why I paint and write; and why I am constantly looking for another form of expression.
Those artists back in the sixties, seventies, and eighties who won the coveted “I danced to your music with my sister” award are no longer the epitome of rebel-rocker, bad boy/bad girl, “Us Against the Machine” icons they once were. If they are still alive they look old ~ sometimes even like something from a different era. Many of my favorite artists still produce music, and some of the music that was produced is still popular: but that is not what this painting is about.
When I paint I usually begin with an empty canvas and a mind that is clear as the canvas is white [or black]. This time was no different. I chose to create a black background, so I began with a large brush and wide sweeping strokes using ivory black.
Every once in a while I will have several false starts. For instance, “Resurrection” began as a shadowy figure on a background of stars. That felt creepy (and I don't like painting “creepy” things) so I added blue and browns... presto; it was a ship on an empty ocean. But that felt hopeless and alone (and I don't like portraying negative emotions); so I added some golds and reds... thinking that I could at least have a nice sunset or dawn to go with the ship that was alone [ I had by this time decided it was a painting about being independent.. even it was a lonely existence ].
Still... it didn't feel “complete”. I do believe that to be truly self-aware one has to be comfortable with at least the possibility of being alone and unpopular. However, there is a reason why people, like me, are okay with the notion of being alone: we see “something else”.
When I get to a point where I don't know how to complete a painting, I start turning it around; I take the canvas outside; or I take pictures of it and apply different filters to the image until I see “something else”.
“Resurrection” was originally a landscape painting with the left hand shoulder [of the final painting] at the top of the canvas. When I turned the canvas I immediately saw a pair of eyes looking out at me. And very quickly the shape of an old guitarist began to emerge. I saw the seventies style shirt materializing, and I began to imagine what it might feel like to no longer be in the mainstream ~ so I made it obvious that he died his hair. I was about to take it farther – but then I realized something.
I am fifty-six years old. I may not have been a rock star (heck I was a nerd before being a nerd was popular), but I don't spend my time trying to recapture past youth. So.... what was the guy in the painting thinking? What worlds did he surround himself with, and, when he closed his eyes how did it make him feel. Nostalgic? I seriously doubt that. Did he see a sepia-toned world, or was his mind filled with a more mature version of the notes that brought him fame.
I drew the world I saw with veils of notes folding around hime. Then I opened his eyes.
Resurrection: Who knows what happens when we die... I sure don't.
But I do know that if we can see the creativity within, with our eyes open, that it can feel like we are beginning a new life.