Molting

A feeling is growing inside of me to shed what is familiar, and make a major leap into the unknown. It is an anticipation of growth that I liken to the process of molting, which is part of the life cycle of certain species, like snakes. They are amazingly agile creatures that can bend themselves into concentric circles. Their skin is extremely elastic, although covered with protecting scales. As snakes grow, the tough scales become constricting and must be shed to allow supple movement. A new skin grows under the old, and when it is time, the snake scrapes the edges of its mouth against a hard surface, such as a rock, until the outer layer begins to fold back around its head. It continues scraping and crawling until it is completely free of the dead skin. Amazingly, even a snake’s eyes have scales that come off during molting! Did you know that snakes never stop growing until death?
Imagine lifting scales from eyes and seeing afresh.
I can feel my own molting process beginning. An unstoppable yearning is growing within, to move into a free form. I am ready to shake away my past, and begin anew.

Give And Take Of Play

I am in Cincinnati for a funeral. Charles Tobias, my father-in-law for 22 years, died on Thursday. In various ways, he filled voids in my life that I felt from my own father’s immersion in his social work. Charles liked the give and take of play. We went to football and baseball games together in Cincinnati, took family vacations away from the mainland, played golf, enjoyed many fine restaurants and once when he came to Santa Fe, although he was seventy years old we went river rafting down rapids on the Rio Grande river—all fun activities I never shared with my father. A Harvard law school graduate, he enjoyed intellectual discussions that we pursued in politics, philosophy and life in general.
Charles did not talk much about the after life, and Jean said he did not believe in it. So I imagine his joy after he died to discover that he had only been dreaming, and his real life has just begun! Now he is reunited with his wife and ancestors in the eternal.

And now concerning thy question regarding the soul of man and its survival after death. Know thou of a truth that the soul, after its separation from the body, will continue to progress until it attaineth the presence of God, in a state and condition which neither the revolution of ages and centuries, nor the changes and chances of this world, can alter. It will endure as long as the Kingdom of God, His sovereignty, His dominion and power will endure. It will manifest the signs of God and His attributes, and will reveal His loving kindness and bounty. The movement of My Pen is stilled when it attempteth to befittingly describe the loftiness and glory of so exalted a station. The honor with which the Hand of Mercy will invest the soul is such as no tongue can adequately reveal, nor any other earthly agency describe. Bahá’u’lláh

Love

As I pulled into my driveway today, a short segment on the radio about after-life experiences caught my attention so that I sat listening. Many people who have died and then been brought back to life have recounted similar experiences of the next world. When they get to the next side, they do not miss their bodies at all, and feel great joy, peace and love. While basking in the presence of God, sometime soon after arriving, the individual is visited by a holy being, and together they witness the person's entire life on earth. What matters most is how much a person has loved. Even small moments of charitable love can mean more than years of work.
I went to see the movie Across The Universe, by Julie Taymor. As one who had his coming of age in the sixties, I found this movie, laced with Beatles songs and following a twisting romantic plot rooted in the period of hippies, free-love and youthful anti-war uprising, quite fun. As an artist I am visually oriented, and this movie had lots of visual passages; even some psychedelic. Mixed with great music, it made me consider going again, this time with another former flower child to sit next to me.

Honey To The Bees

October always is a major month for the sale of artwork in Santa Fe. My opening at Adieb Khadoure Gallery last Friday attracted scads of people. It was a feel-good affair, with plenty of food, flowers, casual conversation, and of course, my paintings covering the walls of two rooms. That night in Santa Fe, there were at least thirty gallery openings. The Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta is presently in progress. Each year it attracts enthusiasts from across the globe, and 800,000 visitors attend. Many of them take time to come up to Santa Fe; and they buy art.
The colors are reaching a climax about now. Golden aspen trees, purple asters, ubiquitous chamisa shrubs with their masses of dainty yellow flowers, Mexican sunflowers, and of course all the colorful fruit showing up at the farmers market. Tomorrow I am going up in the mountains to paint the quaking aspen trees with an artist friend. I am sure we will both have to catch our breath at the beauty. For an artist, these sights are like honey to the bees.

Finishing One Part Of Life

Jean and I are moving toward finishing one part of our life together  marriage partners and beginning a new one as strictly friends.
I am feeling inclined to make a radical new start to my life. I want to sell as many of my possessions as possible, including my vehicle, putting away the leftovers in storage. Then I will leave the United States for at least a year on a solitary journey of discovery. Possibly, I will go around the world. I can paint, photograph, and write. I am feeling out my ideas, mulling them over, but certain that I will do this.

See more Steven Boone paintings.

Familiar Haunts

The last time I saw Tanja Mennone was six months ago when I was in Bari, Italy. Now we are together again, in San Francisco. She is visiting the USA with her friend Alessandra and the last few days I have taken them to my familiar haunts in the “city by the bay.” Several times Tanja has remarked how “open” everything feels. I think I know what she means. In this country there is great mobility and it seems whatever you want to do is possible. Italy is more circumscribed and delineated.
This morning we parted ways. They are renting a car and driving to Yosemite, Death Valley, Las Vegas and then to Los Angeles for their flight home. I am flying to Santa Barbara, where I will retrieve my van from my parents home and begin driving back to Santa Fe.

On The Road Again

On the road again. Yesterday I drove eight hours, from Santa Fe to Scottsdale, Arizona. My friend John welcomed me, even though he had arrived home from a month in Europe the evening before. We have known each other since high school. I am looking for a gallery to represent me in Scottsdale, which is a busy art market, especially during winter months. Tomorrow I continue on to Palm Springs, California to visit Adagio Gallery where my paintings are shown, I will give them new work, and take older pieces off their hands. Then I continue to Santa Barbara where my parents, brother and sister live. After a few days there, I will fly to San Francisco to meet a couple Italian friends who will show up at the same time. I can be a good American host, since I know and love 'Frisco. After four days, I return to Santa Barbara to begin my journey back to Santa Fe. The round trip drive is 1872 miles.
Scottsdale is hot! Recently they had ten days in row of temperatures over 110 degrees.

Blood

Off and on for years, I have been attracted to blood as a symbol. Blood is juicy, passionate, and intense. What a wonderful color blood is. It also represents life and death. Recently I have made some photo images using blood as metaphor. When I work on them, it is heart wrenching, and I feel tired, as if I am in battle. I have wondered why I am wrapped up in these images. Particularly at this time in my life I keep coming back to blood symbolism. I realize, my heart is wounded and I am in catharsis. After a year of separation and patience, Jean and I are moving toward divorce. Yet, we remain steadfast friends, and love each other.

Rainbow Of Chaos

Art is food for the soul. Everyone buys food to eat, but few can afford the luxury of art. Thankfully, where wealth exists, also there is art, and artists have always existed. I live in the second biggest art market in America. Amazing, that a little mountain town like Santa Fe can claim this distinction. People come here for many reasons, but especially for the offering of art.
Paul Cezanne once said that, “We live in a rainbow of chaos.“ Last Friday, my gallery told me to bring a large painting from my studio to the gallery because a collector from Houston wanted to see it. This man is a lawyer, and needed a painting for his office. An appointment was arranged. I brought the painting, and it was hung in a room devoted to my art. Meanwhile, a couple from Dallas walked in who happen also to be collectors and already owned six Boone paintings. We had a delightful meeting, and presently they fell in love with the new painting. Then the Houston man and his wife arrived and began deliberating the paintings while the other couple kept in the background. They also liked the new painting. After discussion, they chose another, called Blustery Summer, (shown above), a smaller piece, because it would fit better. The woman from Dallas gave a whoop in delight, and every one came together in jubilation. Each person was happy . . . and this is what art can do.

Eternity In An Hour

“When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art.”
Paul Cezanne  (French, 19 January 1839 – 22 October 1906)

This is a beautiful statement because it simply accomplishes so much in the way of art criticism, which often is full of hyperbole. If we think of nature, we naturally think of beauty: flowers, sunsets, beaches, forests and misty mountain tops. Let me add that it is also: naked flesh, all creatures, bloody wounds, storms, wide eyed babies and old folk croaking their last breath. There is much to compare and all quite stunning. Great artists have to accomplish breadth in their work. Not a task for the faint hearted.

“To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour. ”
William Blake  (English, 28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)

What Is God?

What is God? This is a question that man cannot solve. Even if the brightest minds of all time gathered to ponder and arrive at an answer, they would inevitably fail, insomuch as the thing created can never comprehend that which created it.
In thinking about creation and eternity, I realize how severely limited I am, being a finite point in the infinite.
God is All-Wise, Perfect, and All-Knowing. He alone is without limitation. Being Perfect, He also beholds perfection. Can we behold perfection? Baha’u’llah has said: “Nothing do I behold except that I behold God within it, God before it, and God after it.” This must mean then that He is beholding perfection. Somehow, He must have closed His external eye and opened His inner eye. The external eye could not fail to see human misery, abnormality, suffering, war, famine, disease, premature death etc. Who sees perfection with their external eyes? Yet Baha’u’llah was not blind to the world and its dilemmas. So how could He perceive these predicaments and behold God within them? I will ponder this for awhile. In the meantime, feel free to post a comment if you have thoughts to share.