High Voltage Inside

“If A is a success in life, then A equals x plus y plus z. Work is x; y is play; and z is keeping your mouth shut”

Well said, bronze Albert Einstein.

Very Much Beautiful

Sorry for the disappearing act...I've been busking in far away places.  I might elaborate later.  

Onnneee, twwwooo, CHEESE!

This is all for nothing. Now, get back to work.

Here's some inspiration for you...

Being good at something means nothing.  If anything, it means you haven't dedicated your time and interest to enough endeavors.  While the hard work that accumulates into "talent" might be admirable, that admiration is always measured by how obvious and appealing the resulting "talent" is.  The best hole digger in the whole world will likely be applauded as a dedicated and industrious person until it's discovered he's only digging a hole and for no particular purpose...then he's a moron.

It could be that we're only throwing dirt over our shoulders, breaking our backs while hoping to hit a vein of validation that's forever one foot further down, our hard work only confirmation of how deep the hole is we've dug ourselves into.  Will our children cheer from the rim of our quarries, celebrating the dedication to our labor, or will they find a spring at the bottom of our wells?  I'm frightened that all of this is for nothing, but if the fruits of our labor aren't for us to enjoy, I certainly hope our efforts pull back the sod for future hole diggers.

The purpose of life might be to preoccupy ourselves with hard work and other distractions until we die unexpectedly and in disappointment.  If a legacy is something we all leave, I really hope mine has something to do with keeping busy instead of the trivial byproducts of my labor.

I cringe at the idea of an epitaph, but if I were to have one, I'd prefer it said something like this:

Wyatt worked relatively hard on several occasions.   

Trump Sucks

oil on canvas

12" x 16"

Paint what you see, not what you know.

Alyssa and Electricity

oil on canvas

20" x 20"

Alyssa put her fingers in this picture.

Revitalize

oil on canvas

18" x 24"

Purgatory is a Parking Garage

Concrete Dreams

oil on canvas

14" x 18"

I spent a good portion of my time in Cumberland painting from the parking garage.  Have you ever studied the oddities of a parking garage?  The corkscrewed and skeleton-like layers of concrete that bounce and groan as you circle clockwise towards both your parking spot and the exit?  The stalactites, streams, and breezes...pseudo-natural byproducts of man-made ambitions to better organize our technological innovations?  The reasons why people hang out in the stairwells after dark?  No, you don't care and I can't blame you...you park your car and go on with your interesting life.

When is the last time you stared out the window of a second floor apartment and questioned your chance of survival should you jump?  The parking garage...solid enough to be a refuge, delicate enough to scare you to death.

Buoys

oil on canvas

12" x 12"

This is America

oil on canvas

20" x 20"

Dishing on Direction

Guest House

oil on canvas

24" x 24"

I don't know that I created any outstanding paintings while in Cumberland, but I'm satisfied with how gritty and Cumberland-ish the whole group of work turned out.  I'm always more pleased with average, honest depictions of real life than polished paintings of romanticized subjects.  Beautiful is boring when you ignore the ugly.

The Queen City has a lot of nice dirt and all sorts of satellite television.

"Hey, get a life!"

Chasing the Dragon

oil on canvas

9" x 12"

Last week, a homeless man walked past my easel and said, "Hey, get a life!"  He was wearing a sweater that said "American Eagle, est. 1977."

Painting pictures is still dumb.  Fortunately for me, however, there are plenty of fine people out there who have mistaken my ability to paint pictures of crusty subjects better captured with a cell phone as some sort of gift from God.  These wildly inaccurate presumptions led me to Cumberland, Maryland last week.

I had a great time pretending to be an artist in the "Free State".  Cumberland has it all...friendly down-and-outers, self-proclaimed fine art aficionados, vacant storefronts, a 100-year-old wiener restaurant, and a serious heroin problem.  I painted the beautiful church spires, the train engines and their tracks, the monuments to industries of yore, and the scenic beauty of the Potomac Highlands...but...

There was an inflatable Halloween decoration en route to the interstate overpass that seemed to say much more about the Queen City.  

It's hard to say if any of my paintings from Cumberland are worth their salt, but I feel like I just stepped off the stage after starring in a depressing piece of dinner theater.  I'm just here to entertain you while you slurp your soup.