Sunday, January 25, 2015

Good Morning Jacob

Letter to my Son
Sunday, 25 January


Good Morning Jacob…


My new rule for writing is to find what I mean and say it.  I've often cluttered my thinking with words posed as literature.  Often I have to make several passes at a thought before I know what it is I’m trying to say.  Sometimes I never get there.  It isn’t easy.  I don’t even like it.  It’s sitting on a wooden pew that agitates the boil.



I’m trying to draw these days.  There’s always some mimicry involved, but mostly it’s about portraying something I can’t find with words.  They suggest whirlwinds.  Shadows cast by clouds move quickly across uplift faces as would be caught with time-lapse photography. 



There’s happiness in here somewhere.  There’s also the feeling that everything is about to break – a carnival ride going berserk, swirling down a drain.  Yet, this isn’t doomsday.  Sort through the emotions you have when you first discover you've fallen in love and this feeling will be among them. 



Artists don’t conjure lab room logic.  We’re closer to the mumbo-jumbo end of the spectrum.  The imagery, music and poetry created are ruled by the heart.  Anything holding to a blueprint or formula is fakery – painting by the numbers.



I start my drawings with nothing in mind.  Images begin to congregate on the paper.  Connections are made.  Color adds energy and dimension.  After all is done there is little sense to it.  If it works it’s because it’s a drawing that merely feels like something.

Love,
          Dad


© Tom Taylor




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