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| Wilshire Center Building, 2015
I have a book of postcards from the '50's titled "Boring Postcards". I have always kept it because its images stifle and suffocate with the knowledge it's much too late to escape the built world.
So, like Thom Gunn's motorcyclist, I am a runner, an escapist, seeing comfort, solace, distance, quiet, kindness,atonement. I have a studio, a room of my own.
I must go see these paintings. They seem to need to be in the book. That sandy dulled quality of light, like 50's smog, the sense of isolation - no one cares about these places, no one is looking at these scenes yet they have import.
Rebecca Campbell has said, I think, that physical and intellectual nostalgia is a path to the sublime. Reality and the demands of social adjustment take far too much from my meager energy - all the threats are too close, my boundaries as lost as the spaces in this painting.
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