Trudge: to walk with purpose.

Vincent van Gogh, with his passionate religious convictions wanted to be a pastor but his unconventional approach to being a missionary appalled church authorities and they dismissed him for "undermining the dignity of the priesthood." He worked in an art dealership for a bit but his resentments at how art was treated as a commodity got him fired. In the end, he tried painting. Before he died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound at 37, he managed to sell one of his masterpieces.

Up until now, I haven’t thought much about Van Gogh. I’ve seen his paintings and I am in agreement with those that find beauty in his work. I’m not sure why I chose to read about his tragic life, but by the time I finished absorbing the details of his story, I had tears in my eyes as I huddled over a desk in the quiet room of the east side library. I identify with many of Van Gogh’s thoughts and feelings. I feel grateful to have a chance to experience a joy that seems to have eluded him in life. I left the library reflecting on his work and the gift Van Gogh gave to many by striving to find his purpose through honoring his passion, whether preaching or painting, trudging through madness, he remained authentic and true to himself.

Being true to myself is the closest I’ve come to a purpose for my life. I’ve had many discussions with others about the purpose of life. It seems part of the human condition to ask and try to answer questions about our existence. Somewhere along the way I picked up the idea of spending my life doing the things that bring me joy. What brings you joy I ask myself? Two different minds, the left-brain and the right devour the question and spit out very different answers for consideration. Both sides seem to be lying to me. I ask myself again and again. I change the question. Why do you paint? Why do you write poems? It’s just what I do. Neither brings me joy. The feeling is something completely different. Both activities take me to a place where happiness, joy, and fulfillment aren’t even on my radar. I suppose that place is clarity and resolve. Creating takes life and maps it out in a way that I can understand it.

I’m heading back to school next year and there is a great deal of excitement as to the potential of my decision. Then there is the weight of making a commitment to a direction. As of now I’m not making any decisions. I may choose to remain in this place forever. I’ve given myself permission to do so. I’ve given myself permission to get more than one degree even if one has nothing in common with the others. I consider my process much like visiting a buffet for brunch and having scrambled eggs, mashed potatoes, and chocolate covered strawberries, leaving the table feeling satisfied but wishing I had saved room for a piece of cheesecake. I often worry about leaving the table of this life without sampling a little of all the things for which I have an appetite. This has me laughing at my greedy logic and lack of enlightenment. I think to consider once more the story of Van Gogh, a man who lived a life filled with despair and disappointment dying unaware of the gift he left behind and my appetite returns to being right sized.

Introspective, Armed with Paintbrush.

“To enter one's own self, it is necessary to go armed to the teeth.” –Paul Valery

Artist, Dan Keplinger arrived in Flagstaff last week for a brief visit. Last April, Dan's film was shown at the NAU/TASH film festival at the Cline Library. We decided to show the film again and this time, Dan was coming to Flagstaff to speak about his life, his art and the film: King Gimp, which chronicles 14 years of his life.

Following the film, Dan spoke to a group of students, fans and fellow artists. He answered questions and took comments. After the event, I stood in line to introduce myself to Dan and let him know that I would be stopping by the hotel the next morning to escort him and his wife to the Hozhoni Day Program for a visit. I was looking forward to being there when Dan met my friends and fellow artists at Hozhoni. I once worked for Hozhoni as an art instructor. I found it easy to be myself in a non-judgmental and creative environment and this gave me permission to create in a completely uninhibited way. Within the first two months, I found myself painting each day before and after work, often waking up early, brush in hand within 10 minutes of waking, painting with half opened eyes.

I met Dan in the lobby of the hotel, his wife seated next to him. She giggled as she told me how much she loved my hair. I told her I couldn’t afford a decent hair cut so I chopped at it whenever it became necessary. I also told her that I felt as if I could get away with it in my line of work. Dan started to laugh and said that his favorite excuse is: “I’m an artist.”

During our conversation, Dan’s wife asked if they could reschedule the visit to later that afternoon? Although they were extremely apologetic, I assured them, they had in no way wasted my time. I would not have traded the chance to chat with them for an extra hour of sleep. I headed off to work, feeling inspired and looking forward to seeing Dan speak again that evening at the City’s Disability Awareness Commission’s Awards Dinner. This year the Commission highlighted artists. The tickets were only $20 and included dinner and lots of cool raffle items, donated by local businesses and artists. There were speeches from the winning artists, slideshows of their work, endless laughter and even a few tears.

Dan was the guest speaker. While he spoke, slide images of his paintings flashed on the screen. I don’t feel as if I have the right words to describe the paintings of Dan Keplinger. I find myself staring at his work, absorbing the emotions of each composition. I asked Dan if he ever feels nervous about what people think about his art and if he does, how does he deal with it? He answered that sometimes he feels nervous but that in his words his paintings “are not for decoration, they are for discussion.” I may be able to go as far as listing my feelings when I see one of his paintings but I’m not sure it qualifies as discussion. When interviewed by the magazine Ability, Dan reflected on his “visual diary” of self-portraits, “I do about two portraits a year and you can really tell how I was feeling during that time by the painting. People that know me are troubled by my self-portraits, because they do not relate how happy I am in real life. I think my self-portraits are the only way I can say what I feel inside.”

I’m guessing that I’m not the only artist who can relate to Dan’s words and the way he utilizes art as a tool for self-expression. I also believe I’m not alone in understanding the contrast between the public persona and a work of art involving emotions below the surface. This is not a new concept by any means and yet the way Dan Keplinger has mastered the ability to convey raw emotion through his own creative process is what sets him apart from many other talented artists. It is also what I admire most about Dan's work.

For Dan, creating is a journey of self-discovery, “I know I am reaching down very deep within myself to get these paintings. I still have a long way to go before I can say that I know myself.”

Dan is represented by the Phyllis Kind Gallery in Soho, New York and his work can be viewed on his website: www.kinggimp.com

Hot Dog Frank Rosaly!

I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I did not have a soundtrack for my memories and daily activities. My soundtrack consists of recorded music, trains, bird songs and passing cars. I am compelled to tap glass and metal, to create a rhythm of distraction and amusement. Last week I built a fire in the wood stove. I grabbed the spray bottle and sprayed the hot stove a few times. The water hit the stove on the top, at the sides, the door and the pipe, each spot producing a different kind of sound. I started creating a rhythm and soon the pattern I had created mimicked the sounds of an approaching locomotive. This brought me a great deal of afternoon entertainment.

I don’t often share these sorts of things with anyone. I suppose I think I will be judged as silly or strange for being obsessed with the sounds of a wood stove but after seeing the Frank Rosaly concert I feel justified in my strange past times.

Frank Rosaly performed at the Coconino Center for the Arts last Thursday night. From the moment he entered the building with the manic energy of a grasshopper bouncing from place to place, setting up and asking questions, I had the feeling I would not be disappointed despite my high expectations of the show.

He sat alone on the stage surrounded by a drum set and an open case containing a piece of sound equipment that he would later use to manipulate sounds and play recorded samples. His performance was never predictable. He removed a cymbal from the high hat and raked it across the snare drum, creating a sound that had me feeling simultaneously uncomfortable and intrigued. He did this for what seemed like 2 or 3 minutes until he moved onto something else. He pushed the sound to the limits of my tolerance and yet my ears weren’t ready to let go of the eerie tone resembling the playing of a poorly tuned cello. He did similar things with a fork on various drumheads and cymbals between skilled and energetic drum playing. The tempo would increase and drop off into awkward moments of silence. Frank would hesitate, making jerky, frantic movements toward different objects, before finding just the right tool for the sound he was searching for. A spotlight illuminated the space surrounding him and at one particularly captivating part of his performance, a moth fluttered up and down toward the drum set in time with his playing nearly landing on the high hat.

I leaned forward on the edge of my seat throughout the performance. I couldn’t sit still. I felt a connection to his intense preoccupation with sound and his need to explore the instrumental possibilities of his surroundings.

Between sets, Frank spoke for a few minutes expressing gratitude to the people of Flagstaff who had supported him at different points of his life before and after he moved to Chicago. He was full of humility and kindness and it was easy to approach him and thank for his performance. I bought his latest project: Milkwork, on vinyl which includes a free MP3 download of the album and headed home talking about the show for most of the ride.

Arriving home, I stood the album up on the dresser before going to bed. I fell asleep feeling inspired. I have added another soundtrack to my life, one that makes me feel okay about dragging the pots and pans out on a Sunday afternoon for an improvisational jam session in the kitchen.

Giclée: Using French makes you sound fancy!

Working in the field of Visual Arts, I’ve been asked many questions about art and artists. One of the questions I'm confronted with regularly is about the meaning of the term, “giclée”. Stamped on the tag of many a reproduction, it sneers at prospective art buyers, some of who have no idea what this fancy and intimidating word means. I hear them discussing it quietly with their friends so not to be overheard or embarrassed and often they become brave enough to ask, “What is a giclée?” Lately I’ve responded at first with a joke, telling them they are not allowed to say the word unless they are to use a condescending tone. This usually relaxes any uneasy feelings they may have about appearing ignorant. Their concern about appearing ignorant is what bothers me the most.

I like the concept of the arts as being accessible and inclusive. I’m not saying the word “giclée” will scare away potential art buyers without previous knowledge of the what the word means, but the more I read about the history and usage of the term, the more confused I became about how it is used to label the prints of today. I also started thinking about the way art is labeled and how it may be best to find a way to let folks in on the terminology in order to create a comfortable place for people to view and/or buy art.

What is a giclée? The term was invented in 1991, by a printmaker by the name of Jack Duganne. Jack needed a word to distinguish the inkjet-based digital fine art prints from the industrial prints or “Iris proofs” of his time. Searching for a word generic enough to cover the wide array of inkjet technologies of the present and hopefully into the future, he first found the French word for nozzle, which most inkjet printers use. The word: le gicleur then led him to look up the French word for “to spray” or gicler. In the end he settled for the feminine noun version of gicler which gave us a name for the fine art print some of us now know as giclée, (pronounced “zhee-clay”) or “that which is sprayed or squirted.”

Although the name was originally applied to the fine art prints created on Iris printers in the early 1990s, many artists and businesses of today are producing ink jet prints of their work and labeling the reproductions as a giclée. Of course there is a lot of controversy surrounding the use of the word and there have been attempts to set standards for what qualifies and what doesn’t.

The idea of art creating controversy usually gets me laughing, and this is no exception. I’ve overheard many serious discussions about what is and what is not a giclée. It has also been suggested in these discussions that making prints of original artwork is in itself something to be avoided. For many of the people I meet, buying art in our local galleries, the contents of the label are secondary to the work. The subject matter, the color and composition appear to be the focus. Often, like me, they are unable to afford the original and are pleased with the affordability of the reproduction.

I enjoy art, in all forms, reproductions and originals. I’m not certain I understand the controversy surrounding the definitions of things in general. I try my best to stray from too much intellectualizing when it comes to art and yet I can relate to the curiosity surrounding the basic terminology that defines it. I also understand the desire for quality when it comes to buying art. Too keep it simple, I recommend people look at a piece of art before buying it. If you like what you see, if you find it appealing, inspiring, and meaningful, my guess would be, you have made a quality investment.