Last night, after the tragedy in Connecticut, I took some time to reflect as a parent, teacher, and artist on the relationship that this event has with my life, outlook, and work. I thought about my painting a lot….in my work, there is a world where things like innocence, respect, goodness….all things tangentially related to beauty can live, and live unadulterated. It calms me to think that the world can look this way to someone seeing my paintings long from now. I disagree with many scholars that beauty however relates to truth, because the truth is pretty ugly on days like this. The Illusion of beauty becomes an ideal or a hope, maybe a position of mourning. For me, painting reminds me that there are things that transcend the time, place, and world we live in.
I am horrified that my daughters will hear about this incident in the upcoming days, but i am even more saddened by the fact that they will inevitably know the truth. My truth is the state that they are in of never knowing, which can only happen in a painting….its a lie that I have to believe for their future. Why would someone believe in something that they knew wasn't true? Because the truth is often THAT dismal. I don't think that beauty can ever be realized when the entire story is told, which is why I like to destroy parts of my paintings that give too much. I am protecting an untruth of sorts, but one that truthfully expresses my own view. One of slight desperation and disbelief. I try to honor the rare occurrences that counteract those feelings and preserve them in plastic.
As my kids sleep upstairs, I think of all the teachers that I work with that told me yesterday upon leaving my school to hug the kids extra hard tonight…i didn't. It doesn't take events like this for me to feel that way. The passage of time, another theme in my work, is always so sad to me, mostly because truth is at the end of this cycle and aesthetic truth is all i am interested in…please lie to me about the rest.
God bless us.
