Mysterious Circumstance

North coast of Sicily, and the Tyrrhenian Sea

This time five years ago, while on the island of Sicily, I experienced a luxurious solitude. (see my earlier blog) Abandoning the rigid dictates that my mind commanded I “should” be doing and the path I "must" stay upon, instead I wandered freely, letting mysterious circumstance unfold and lead me into surprise. I enjoyed being lost and feeling life without boundary. I had a car, a little house in Bonagia, a fishing village on the west coast, my art supplies, laptop, camera, and a change of clothes.

The little fishing village of San Maria

Mt. Corfanu on the northwest coast. The view is from where I lived.

After I adjusted to the time change and recovered from jet-lag, I eagerly breathed in the Mediterranean air, soaked up the sunlight, felt the rocky earth under my feet, listened to the birds and sound of bells tied to the sheep that wandered grazing along the hills nearby, and enjoyed quietude. If I wanted to paint, I took my easel out and discovered a view to my liking, then stood still, observing and working in silence. Some days I awoke with a plan, but if the day beckoned me in a different direction, then I might simply follow spirit into the unknown. Over the course of a month I explored the entire Sicilian coast, traveling in all directions, and into the interior, finding ancient Roman temples, and climbing Mt. Etna, a volcano.

Ancient Roman temple, standing at Segesta.

I began to sense what it is to live in THE DREAM. Now, years later, I often experience living in THE DREAM. It is a practice.

At the Roman amphitheater at Segesta.

A Fairy Tale

It is interesting how sometimes when we are looking for one thing, we find another that is more important. In Bavaria recently, Erki Eichenseer, a cultural curator, was looking through some old, forgotten archives searching for original texts in an old castle and discovered a treasure trove of over 500 unpublished fairytales from past ages.  (See BBC article)There is a word for such an occurrence: serendipity.

I call this blog, My Fairy-Tale Life, because I view my conscious existence through the prism of dream thought, mystery and spirit. I call our world, THE DREAM. The essence of this perception came to me when my oldest daughter and I were in a doctor’s office, waiting the results of an exam and when he came into the room his face was ashen. He looked at us, and spoke, saying to Naomi, “You have cancer, and the tumor in your hip is very large.” He then held his hands together to make a circle the shape of a grapefruit. In that instant it was as if an arrow pierced my heart, opening for one second a door of perception that then just as suddenly, shut. I felt we must be dreaming, that this sudden turn off of a cliff could not be reality. Life changed drastically in just a few moments and I knew the world is made of sand. Yet, there we sat together, numb and wondering what to do next. The experience has stayed with me as a seminal event that has permanently altered my consciousness.

What is a fairy-tale? “A fairy tale, or wonder tale, is a kind of folktale or fable. In these stories we meet witches and queens, giants and elves, princes, dragons, talking animals, ogres, princesses, and sometimes even fairies. Marvelous and magical things happen to characters in fairy tales. A boy may become a bird. A princess may sleep for a hundred years. A seal may become a girl. Objects too can be enchanted — mirrors talk, pumpkins become carriages, and a lamp may be home to a genie.” (See: Fairytales ) Usually, a fairy tale has a plot with twists and turns, shades of light and dark, and there is an object to the story.

Over The Rainbow

Children in Kashmir, India

Recently I have been posting daily from my profile on Facebook, in a series I call “Over The Rainbow.” I select photos of simple, honest people from across the globe from my archive of travel pictures, and add a caption. Furthermore, I introduce the picture with a note of disgust about American politics—so that the picture is “over the rainbow” and far away from the divisiveness that we so often see in politics.

Masai mother and child, Tanzania

For the last thirty years, American politics has become uglier and uglier. Now, it is almost a given that political aspirants will spend vast amounts of money to pump up their own image and at the same time, try and make an opponent from another party look bad in comparison. This technique uses the media to spread its message and is called “attack advertising.”  Meanwhile, American elected officials’ carry this mentality into the halls of government and then agree to disagree, continuing to quarrel and fight. Government almost grinds to a halt and people’s needs are not met. These days, politicians are held in very low esteem.

Woman at a fish market, Hoi An, Vietnam

While I travel, all this drama is far behind me, somewhere in the distance on the other side of the rainbow. I bask in the light of unity when I meet common people in strange lands. People everywhere want peace and prosperity. Masses of the world’s citizens strive under corrupt and dysfunctional governments. Somehow, they create a pattern and rhythm of life that sustains them and that they can smile about, even under the dark clouds of politics and greed.

Mayan vendor, Belize

Click to see more artistic photography by Steven Boone.

The Fast

Buddhist monks outside of a temple in Bodghaya, India

The time of fasting for me has begun. I am in my third day of the Baha'i fast which each year is for nineteen days: March 2-21. The fast is similar to the Moslem practice of Ramadan, in that no food or water is taken between sunrise and sunset. This year, my wife, Heidi Of The Mountains is a Baha'i, and is joining me in the practice.

Here is a sacred poem from the writings of Jelaluddin Rumi:


Fasting

There's hidden sweetness in the stomach's emptiness.
We are lutes, no more, no less. If the soundbox
is stuffed full of anything, no music.
If the brain and belly are burning clean
with fasting, every moment a new song comes out of the fire.
The fog clears, and new energy makes you
run up the steps in front of you.
Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.
Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.
When you're full of food and drink, Satan sits
where your spirit should, an ugly metal statue
in place of the Kaaba. When you fast,
good habits gather like friends who want to help.
Fasting is Solomon's ring. Don't give it
to some illusion and lose your power,
but even if you have, if you've lost all will and control,
they come back when you fast, like soldiers appearing
out of the ground, pennants flying above them.
A table descends to your tents,
Jesus' table.
Expect to see it, when you fast, this table
spread with other food, better than the broth of cabbages.

Portraits

I am excited that The Steven Boone Gallery will be hosting a major show of portraits, July 6, 2012. Artists from as far away as New York, Seattle, and Ontario, Canada will participate. My friend, the painter Geoffrey Laurence is curating and his standards are high, so this will be a wonderful exhibit.
I am primarily known as a landscape painter, and this is what sells the most for me. But I have always loved portraits and depictions of human subjects. Now, besides my landscape paintings, I am working on portraits.

Recently, a colorful and stately older woman came to my studio. Alicia De Najera Sena and I are just getting acquainted. When my wife, Heidi Of The Mountains, realized that I needed a subject, she immediately thought of Alicia. Alicia is flamboyant and worldly. Her heritage is Native American and Hispanic, and she has been involved with flamenco and flamenco dance companies for years.

When Alicia arrived at my studio, she was dressed in a red velvet dress and red shawl, which was perfect for enhancing the look of her dark skin and long black hair. She brought flamenco cd’s with her, and as the music played, struck poses under my skylight, in front of a black cloth I had strung from my ceiling. I took about seventy pictures. Soon, I will begin sketching from one of the photo’s and call Alicia back in for adjustments as I proceed. It is better this way, since Alicia  has foot problems and could not stand for hours on end as I paint her portrait.

I am certain I will get a good likeness.

Chamo's Adventure

It is remarkable how different are the charms of a forest from season to season. Now, in winter, our forest in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains is covered in deep snow. Heidi Of The Mountain’s and I arrived at a popular trail this morning just after sunrise, put on snowshoes, and along with our puppy, Chamo, hiked into the magical woods. The only sound to be heard was the crunch of snow under our feet.

Chamo had his first adventure in snow. He is an enthusiastic puppy—a poodle with jet-black curly hair. It is wonderful to see him when he joyfully bounds in the air with all feet off the ground. Soon, he played games with snowballs that he created with his jumping. The bits of snow rolled in balls down the steep slope, and he liked chasing them just ahead of his nose. The trail is packed from skiers and hikers, but is softer on the sides. Heidi, who adores Chamo watched in delight and then horror as Chamo chased a snowball into the powder, sinking with each step but continuing on until he was in over his head and could not move. “Steven!” she cried. Chamo struggled and managed to turn himself around, thrashing the snow but sinking. He managed to clamber back up the hill, but midway, another snowball rolled away and he went after it. “No Chamo!” we both shouted at once. He had become a snowball himself, whiter than black. “Steven, save him!” But I did not want to go down the hill. A few minutes later, Chamo managed to hop and thrash his way upwards, his nose barely above the snow, then reach Heidi’s arms on the trail. He has puppy energy, so we continued our hike while I pondered if there was a moral to the story of Chamo’s adventure chasing snowballs into the unknown.

Self-Portraits

2012, oil on linen, 9 x 12 inches

Self-Portrait, 2007

Many famous artists have made self-portraits. Vincent VanGogh (Dutch, 30 March 1853 – 29 July 1890) made 22 in just two years. The Mexican painter, Frida Kahlo  (July 6, 1907 – July 13, 1954) produced over fifty. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when scholars began to study Rembrandt Van Rijn (Dutch, 15 July 1606^[1] – 4 October 1669), they were surprised to discover that he had painted himself on at least forty occasions, and had etched himself thirty-one times, and made a handful of drawings.

Frida Kahlo, Self-portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird

I love to look at self-portraits. They are always inquisitive, and take a bit of boldness. After all, how many people can look at themselves in the mirror for hours—even days on end. It can be daunting, looking at oneself so closely and honestly. My first attempt was when I was a student at The Maryland Institute, College of Art, and my painting class was given the assignment to do a self-portrait. I spent sixty hours trying to get it right before I finally succeeded.

Van Gogh, Self-Portrait with Straw Hat 1887

The history of mirrors is a fun subject, and is the outcome of man’s craving to see himself, and know how he looks on the outside. In early times, crude mirrors were made of flattened, polished metal that showed reflections. Then, in Venice, Italy, during the 16th century, a method of backing a plate of flat glass with a thin sheet of reflecting metal came into widespread production. The invention was so fantastic and special, that it was a closely guarded secret.

Rembrandt, Self-Portrait-1660

In the field of photography, the contemporary artist Cindy Sherman (American, born January 19, 1954) is famous for her series of self-portraits. In them, she assumes a wide range of roles. Her prints are among the highest paid for photographs.

Cindy Sherman

This past week, I found a few self-portraits in my studio that were done within the past five years. I have re-worked them, even though my face has changes somewhat.
Wikipedia has a great article including plenty of pictures about self-portraits: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-portrait

Phoenix

Last Monday, Heidi Of The Mountains and I drove eight hours from Santa Fe, New Mexico, to arrive in Phoenix, Arizona, where her parents have a winter home in Sun City, the sprawling retirement community.  The weather during winter is balmy—warm enough for shorts. I am coming to know my in-laws, and played a round of golf with Heidi’s father.

Colorado, 8 x 10 inches, oil on board

I brought my paint supplies with me, but honestly, although the weather is great and Phoenix is a major American city, I am not impressed with the physical appearance of the area. It is very flat, in a desert, and non-descript houses are wall-to-wall everywhere. So when it came time for me to choose a painting, I did several, but from photographs retrieved from my computer.

We love the Sonoran Desert environment; the only place in the world where the Saguaro cactus grows in the wild. This morning, we left home just after dawn to drive to a place where we could hike. We found a trail in mountains near Sun City and walked among the saguaro with our puppy, Chamo. At the end of the winding walk, we came to a rock wall with a small pool of water at its base. The morning light was good for picture taking, as you can see from the one  I am including here at the top.

Pictures Contain Stories

Poets sometimes shuffle evocative photographs in front of their eyes to stimulate associations and gain new ideas for poems. Pictures contain stories, but it is up to the viewer to supply the text.
I have over thirty thousand photos in my files, so imagine how many poems could be written. Here are a few to talk about:

This photo was taken while I sat in a car on a street in Agra, India, home to the famous Taj Majal. I was waiting for someone and my window was down. A woman spied me and approached, pushing a young girl ahead. They could see I was “western” and supposed that I had money to give them. The child stood in front like a soldier, just as the mother expected her to be, and wore a pitiful expression of fear, despair and blight. The woman reached out her hand and on her face was a mixture of pain and hardness, with a wild look in her eyes, ready to devour—even as she devoured the life of the child.

I have spent endless hours roaming streets with my camera, not knowing what I am looking for, keeping my eyes wide open for an unexpected moment to surprise me. While in Florence, Italy one afternoon, I happened by this black woman leaning on a railing. Behind her was a huge poster of a white woman, some kind of artist. I looked into the woman’s face and saw she had scarification typical of parts of Africa. I enjoy those beauty emblems, and we gazed at each other before I snapped her picture. She is obviously content with herself, and bemused that I would stop to photograph her—and in that moment, she is the real star of the show.

The last picture was taken in the mountains outside of Chiang Mai, Thailand, where I stopped in a village along the way to a sojourn in the jungle to ride an elephant. As I was walking on a narrow trail, I passed a little girl, holding her puppy. The sight was beautiful, and immediately I sought the best view for a picture that had to be taken fast. I dropped to my knees so as to be at eye level with the child. She obliged by standing still and gazing at me with her arms wrapped around the dangling puppy.



Go to my website, Graphixshoot, see more artistic photography.

Passion For Creativity

"Rio Grande River Autumn" oil on linen, 36 x 48 inches

There are countless ways for human beings to be creative, and creativity is not just for artists. Of course, accountants, judges, assembly workers, surgeons, and many other professionals are in situations that require creativity to be minimized, but when these people are off duty, they can choose creative ventures like cooking, writing, photography, landscaping, and many other pursuits that require creative thought.

As an artist, I have a passion for creativity. When I set up a blank, white canvas on an easel in my studio, immediately I am challenged. How will I produce a work of art? My tools are paints, palette knives and brushes, but I must decide how to mix the paints, what colors to produce, what lines and shapes to make, what textures I want to be seen . . . and then I have to work with skill to be able to produce a worthy result.

When I am working on a landscape painting, I often work from nature on location. This has special challenges, i.e. the light constantly changes, the weather can be windy, rainy or cold, and sometimes a location is far away from my studio. I have painted so many pictures outdoors, that now, I know the colors and textures of nature and how to achieve them—even if I choose to work from a photograph in my studio, where the environment is controlled. Usually, when people view my paintings, they cannot tell the difference between ones painted outdoors and those painted from photos. The landscape I am showing above is a recent piece, done in my studio from a photograph.

Being creative means experimenting with whatever modality is at hand. With the advent of digital imaging, photography can be manipulated as easily as painting. Special software, such as Photoshop, allows pixels to be changed and recombined to marvelous advantage. Because of my traveling, and passion for photography, I have tens of thousands of photos in my files. In the next photograph, I have combined two images taken in Venice, Italy, to achieve an unexpected result that goes beyond typical photos. The last image is a similar technique of combining images taken in Paris, France—one, a bronze relief from the Louvre Museum, and the other, a texture found on the wall of a mausoleum in the Père Lachaise Cemetery. This is the fun of creativity—to explore and discover.

Best Of January Writing, 2007-2011

The best of January blogs, 2007-2011:

Eternity
January 28, 2007

The Homestretch

January 20, 2008

 

Standing On The Threshold
January 11, 2009

Bohemian Companions
January 31, 2010




















Infinite Worlds
January 29, 2011