January 13, 2012
I was thinking about all of this while watching a tiny bit of phalo blue tissue swirling and whirling inside the fragile ribcage of my studio. Because I know Him to be clever I suspected the tissue to be His spectacular but quiet entrance as I continued to draw a portrait of Lao Tzo inside a hue of blue touched narcotically with green and before it could land I snatched it from the air then set it carefully onto this question; is there really just one painting?
I was reading all this when He pressed the tip of right index finger to my right temple and asked, “Is it true that the Andy Warhol show currently hanging in the Hirshhorn Museum has indeed dispensed any lingering belief we might have that good art must be difficult to make?”
I was writing this when I answered, “I have been angry for weeks because of my distaste for that shit art demonstrated by people like Damien Hirst who does circles for a living and because of his powerful dealer Gagosian shows his asinine circles in important galleries in important places. I have been angry because I believe it to be another example of the “art world” screwing with or taking advantage of that sincere part of the collective that would like to have an honest and exciting relationship with what they are taught are the fine arts and with what they believe to be important. I see it as a scam. Am I wrong?”
There was a slight pause followed by enthusiasm spraying from His well formed lips, “You have a right to your grief, my small lost bug, but you are as always so very wrapped up in your narcissism that clarity is difficult if at all possible, after all you are fond of Pollack and that wasn’t hard was it, and you have gradually grown an important respect for Picasso and others like Matisse who for years have dreamt of an instant painting. This isn’t something to be attacked, this concept and oh so serious attitude must be admired. Don’t we want the power of simplicity to drape us like a plain winter coat through the winter of time?”
work in progress by Leon Hushcha, mixed media on wood, 21"x20"
“Stop!” I shouted.
“No, I don’t want a coat. I want honesty, integrity and the comfort of quality which is a true result of good intention and plain hard work. I want to believe that even the attempt itself of creating something from nothing is worthy of note. That people in the arts are well meaning and searching for depth in our own species that shows merit and deserves our applause.”
When did grey turn to gray?
The night into day?
He smiled widely and with His fingers began to tap on my latest painting. “This painting started as an attempt to paint a center that would speak to its border which had been painted independently and quite a while back. You painted it shape by shape of aluminum on black not knowing where it was going or why. Yet by the end of the first week it began to form itself and you thought of it as broken glass, colorless and meaningless, yet somehow interesting. You had no clue where you were going and there was no necessity of an up or a down or a horizon line. You were stunned when she said “Guernica” you knew it meant something, you knew it would mean something to someone; you knew if you let it, it would be. You wanted it to paint itself and do it easily without restraint.’
“And to answer your question, when did grey turn to gray?”
"Balletto di Grigio" by Leon Hushcha, acrylic on wood, 26"x47.5"