it’s not my holiday, this time of betrayal, redemption, and resurrection. but these are themes that have been weighing me down of late. are we beyond redemption, this country which has gone from the envy of the free world, to the laughing stock instead?
as we betray ally after ally, cozying up to the worst tyrants the world has to offer? i feel perpetually compelled to apologize to my Canadian and European friends, even though I voted for the smart lady prosecutor and the smiling football coach governor.
i try to spend as much time in my studio as i can, both because i have a show to prepare for and because it’s a good distraction. turning my mind to spreading and removing ink too much? not enough? what will happen if I lay this color on top of that one? is this a “happy accident” or just an accident?
the lottery
monotype
10”x10”
trying to keep showing up where i can, to protest this corrupt regime and their cruel and capricious actions, their cult of corrupt clowns. but writing, theater, painting and visual commentary are part of the truly free expression that this regime would like to squash. they’ve already taken over the Kennedy center, are attacking the smithsonian, including THE ZOO! (oh those communist pandas! they must be spies!)
birches above the valley
monotype
8”x10”
my friends (and friends to bears) that read my weekly ‘toons say that they make them forget the troubles we find ourselves in, if only, if even for a few minutes. and so, making art, making humorous, satirical ‘toons must be my resurrection, my fight against the fascists and tyrants.
night in ya’an
monotype
6”x6”
making art has always been a big part of who i am.
it’s what i do.
i’m so thankful for all of you who have come along for the ride.
welcome to new readers as well as those of you who have been with me since pandas first started leaping out of my brain (and those of you who were here long before that)
big bear hug to
and everyone else who started this trend of making AI free “starter packs”here’s mine
be friendly to bears
be well
keep fighting
I always have rocks in my pockets, they seem to find their way there independently. I cherish their surface texture —pro tip: only collect smooth rocks. I love the clicking sound they make as they jumble around each other. But most of all they ground me, give me something solid to hold in my hand (fist?). Every once in a while I empty my pockets when the weight grows burdensome and scatter my rocks around the house, by my elbow as I drink morning coffee (like now), clustered in small bowls where they can get to know each other, and ready for me to revisit when I need to keep from floating away on a fever dream. xo
Love your artwork.