Considerations.

I composed some preliminary work of paintings I thought I might try to take on although they are all quite hopeless in topic. I'm not sure that I'll carry any of them out, but here's a quick view of one I worked on for a few nights, that is before I saw my dad at the foster care home. He knew my name, but could only breathe it out for a minute, registered my presence for only short periods of time, then his awareness of my presence was completely gone, although his eyes were open. The calendar on the wall, the clock, the emptiness - it was all so horrid, so tragic and unbearable for me. I sobbed while I wrote out the rent check, but seeing old people die is nothing for the caregivers. Facing death is really hard for me. My neighbor is a very committed Christian and I have found some of her words comforting, her kindness, mostly. I wish I could believe that man has no power over the world and feel just fine about that, accept it as a fact. My neighbor says she finds hope by focusing on working toward the principles she believes in, and those we share: kindness, goodness, generosity, the basic good that we believe is a part of us instead of an approach I really can't fathom, as in the actions of the terrorists and this time what they have done in India.

For now instead of investing my time into actually creating paintings of the despair about the issues facing humanity that I see, I am sharing what I have done in digital sketches:
First was after experiencing the election and hearing extensive discussion about race in the US, all while I was thinking about women's position too.


Next is from a sketch I made from a quick view I saw going over an overpass. I was thinking about the energy issue and how many people there are and the intrusive infrastructure we have created that is so foreign to the land that exists underneath, not to mention how much we depend on oil. It used to be all wild not so long ago, no I-5.


Last is not a great looking sight, but it illustrates my despondency about the explosion of the human population and the resulting scarcity of food and water.


Pretty dismal point of view, I know. But there is an artist whose work I really like, whose work is compelling and not disturbing or horrifying or depressing, just a gentle kind adventure that doesn't tear my soul to bits. It's Lynita Shimizu's work. I'm going to rest there and I think I'll be trying to take on the piece I told my friend at Saint Bernard Rescue Foundation I'd do for them.