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Portrait
of the Artist as K9 in a Socialist Realist Conspiracy (1978-95)
I began painting my self
portrait in 1978. The winters were real cold that far north
those days. They seemed to last forever. The sun only
rose a few degrees off the southern horizon. It looked like
dawn all day. The dry snow flakes scratched over the crust
of snow like sandpaper. I went to work before sunrise and the
ice crystals in the air formed beams above the street lights.
One day I took a small 110 pocket camera to my walk with me and took
a photograph of myself. People
on the bus would move away from me because I radiated cold while the
frost and mucus thawed in my beard and scarf. It
took me a few years to understand why they avoided me. I
thought they understood how really terrible I was. It wasn't
all good getting on the bus. When I stopped walking the cold outer layers
of my boots and uniform began radiating inward to my sweaty body
too. I could unbutton my coat but there was nothing I could do
about my feet. It was a sharp long agonizing pain like coming
back from nearly freezing to death, every day; day in, day out.
When the spring came I was as ecstatic as a street bum. Whenever
I felt extraordinarily bad and wanted to do myself harm, I slashed angrily
at my self portrait. I did that for seventeen years. I
stopped painting on it in 1995. I quit doing
expressionism. Expressionism didn't help. It made me feel worse. I
had grown increasingly envious of my old classmates from university who
had teaching posts at colleges. Almost everyone I knew had
"made it" and were protected by institutions and respected
by students and colleges. I saw them smiling in newspaper
articles and art periodicals with their splendid art work. I seethed
with jealousy and self loathing.
After 30 years I had
to either quit painting or change my attitude. I changed
my attitude because I had made an oath to paint my entire life.
Now I don't consider myself. I don't look inward, I look
outward through my senses and craft and technolgy. I don't
mess with symbols and meaning. I try not to apply myself
as the measure of everything. I try to be simple and grateful.
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