Parade 5e - The
Parade 5e (Democracy).
Oil on canvas stretched over MDF board. 40 x 84 inches. Feb 10 - 11th 2007.
Getting set up on location Feb 10th 2007.
close up of figure
close up of head
close up of head
close up of two figures
A figure and The Peace Tower
A dead body like a cross
| The Parade 5e (Democracy)
The canvas is stretched on 5/16 MDF Board. This makes the work extremely heavy. Too heavy to pull in my bike transport unit. Erika drove me downtown to the location. I arrived at 4 PM It was February 10th 2007. It was not warm, but it was not that cold. It was cold but not freezing cold. My boots were cheap. I purchased them at Giant Tiger for 15 dollars. The bones in my knees and feet were feeling the winter. It was -18 degree Celsius with the wind chill. I had not completed any studies. Not time was spent developing the series before arriving on location. I was blank. A mental dead end. The series seemed it had reached it height. The last work I completed was 6 ½ x 12 feet (Foreign Policy). I did not know where to take the Parade series. I set things up. Screwed the canvas on the easel. Squeezed paint onto my palette. One thing at a time. I started putting in the US Embassy, the road, steps, sky... With the cold the ivory black paint had a viscosity like crude oil. The sky was like tar. The tar night sky feathered like slavery. White like blind fools. Citizens that sleep like sheep. The US Embassy and The Canadian Peace Tower. Three wise men. Jesus was here. BC is not for body count. Before Christ is was born in a dream. Live in a world that needs love. I wish I could live in the United States. But I am afraid of Americans. I am ashamed to call myself a Canadian. Consume, drive a big fat car, eat fast food, shit, watch television, go to work that does not pay, stand in line, sleep be a sheep. I am genetically modified. My arms, legs, heart, mind, soul are organic free range. It is so liberating to pick my nose. I have no voice. I believe in words like I believe in lies. If I could I would. I'd rather be a junkie than vote disappointment. I believe in divorce. I believe she is killing my dreams. I believe I am getting erased in my marriage. I am sure I will let you down and die. No love equals no pain. I love pain. Cancer is eating she. She is her mother. Inhale and exhale. Red and white blood cells. I am Canadian. The paint was very stiff. It was hard to squeeze the paint out of the tube. The paint was hard to manipulate. I just kept working, painting. I didn't really care. I was just content being outside in the cold. Out of the house. While working on the canvas I never really felt the painting was going to be significant. The size of the canvas being reduced relative to the rest of the series. I was too lazy to squeeze out additional colors on my palette. The lack of color reflects my cold laziness. The cold gave me the courage to concentrate. In the studio you have the time to step back. Sit down. Relax. Too much time to think. When you are outside in the winter cold you have to attack the canvas. If you do not completely commit to the work you start to get cold and weak. It is necessary to block the cold out. The cold acts as a catalyst to creatively reach deeper levels of concentration. I love the challenge. It forces me to run around my veins and migrate back towards my heart. Voices run around in circles. Warm thoughts of suicide. Complete release. Bleeding memories distill. Cancer, divorce, heart attack, nervous break downs fall - die in the night.
Thank you Patrick |
| Patrick,
As usual your artwork continues to inspire me. I wrote a song while
I had one of your paintings as a wallpaper on my computer. Your paintings
reveal a lot of truth, and what got me thinking was the little child
in your painting. What happened to innocence? Those man, puppet masters,
standing high in the building, these men, in my eyes, are political
and corporate entities that dominate our world today. One side you have
the Government, and on the other the Bank. |
