I have a new strategy in life. Come up with life-rattling decisions and put them out in public before I have time to be scared by them. Like coming out of the closet about depression, and checking out of the world for a month. These were terrifying things that ended up changing my life. So now you’ll find me hitting “Post” “Publish” and “Send” on a daily basis. Otherwise my fear would talk me out it. Continue reading
At 4 am on January 1st I woke up, and for a few seconds I lay there in the dark, oblivious, but then I remembered and I thought WHAT HAVE I DONE?
What I had done was to commit myself to a month-long at-home retreat with no text, email, Facebook, Twitter, news, nothing but the good hard work of getting through depression. While we were on vacation over Christmas, and I was lying in bed in Key West, unable get up or face anyone, I decided this was what it was going to take. I opened up my laptop and started writing a piece about my depression.
If I could just take some time, I could get better.
This is the thought that has repeatedly crept into my brain recently. If I could just take a break, if I could just step out of life, if I could just breathe…I could get better.
I have a bag of pain that I lug around with me from time to time. It weighs down my walk and dulls my surroundings. It turns up the volume on conflict to the point that it becomes necessary to stay home so that a disagreement with a cashier or a driver flipping me off doesn’t consume me. If I don’t answer my phone or come to your party I’m probably home, trying to figure out how to get through the endless minutes of the day. Continue reading
As a portrait artist, people come to me with a need. The need of a gift (usually), the need to capture a moment in time, but often it’s the need to honor and celebrate someone who has passed. There was the best friend, the beloved uncle, the elderly father, but twice it was a child. One of them was named Karim. Continue reading
See if this sounds familiar: you get a crummy night’s sleep; you’re tired so you skip your “workout;” your work suffers; you binge on social media; you beat yourself up because you binged on social media and you missed your workout and have accomplished nothing; you load up on caffeine; because you haven’t moved or worked and are now jacked up on caffeine you have another crummy night’s sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. Continue reading
The teen selfie series I’m currently working on has been a major departure from my previous work. I’m using the compositions of others, relying on their style of expression to create a portrait. Really what I’m doing is celebrating their creativity while learning from their photographic work. As much as we like to equate selfies with technology and social media and all those things my generation loves to hate, it’s really just photography. When we look through the multitude of photos it takes to get that one perfect selfie, it’s no different from a professional photographer scanning a proof sheet for a cover shot. Continue reading
Today I finished a commission – a simple 8×10 drawing of a baby from an old photo. Pretty straightforward, eh? Not so fast. Continue reading
I’ve spent the last few years trying to figure out Twitter. It was a clique that I couldn’t quite break into, so I mainly used it as a source of news and comic relief. Eventually I discovered that there were creative people on Twitter who offered inspiration, but not the bland quotation type of inspiration from a long dead guru or politician, but a modern kind of inspiration using technology to cross all the boundaries of “art,” with comics protesting for civil rights, artists debating politics, poets speaking for LGBT Pride, and composers writing raps about history. Continue reading
Are you a lurker? Do you scroll through Facebook, Twitter and Instagram glancing at your friends’ offerings without leaving any trace of your presence?
This phenomenon has come to my awareness recently as I try to make a living, or at least some pocket change, as an artist. Bumping into people around town, I’m constantly surprised when they say, “I loved your latest blog,” or “That portrait you just did was lovely.” It’s surprising because there’s no record of them having seen it or enjoyed it. If I hadn’t bumped into them I would never have known they were even aware of my work. Continue reading
Here in the Boston area you can’t help but be captivated by the greatest art theft of all time—the Gardner Museum Heist. Twenty-six years ago thirteen masterpieces disappeared from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and we all wonder, who would do that, and why? These were the questions I was asking myself at age 17 when I found myself in the middle of the Mount Anthony Union High School Art Heist. Continue reading