visual expressions of the inexpressible

These paintings (roughly in reverse chronology) are conceived as a part of an ongoing project, the root problem, from which this place's ideas and name arise. They are done in effort to communicate the essence alternatively, perhaps more effectively as if by some smaller infinity, than those attempts prior. Regrettably these photographs entirely fail to capture the fullness of these paintings, particularly in terms of color accuracy, texture, and accordingly the overall movement of each piece. This is a notable deficiency because most have layers of pigmentation obfuscated entirely by progressive layers, but which remain on the edge of perception as a texture incongruous with the foremost. Likewise, the capture renders the colors a perceptible degree more demur and indistinct, though such is hard to believe for a few, and this deficiency is one of particular detriment as there is often a vastness of variably distinct vibrancy.

I must make a note on method, essential for the link between the thoughts prior and these that follow: these are not abstractions. I do not know what is contained upon or expressed by each, nor have I ever thought that any less than innumerable interpretations were satisfactory. Indeed, this is exactly the effect I am for, that is to visualize the enigma, the root problem, in a way that the previous explication can be seen as a poor attempt to approximate. As procedure, I expend all mental effort on not painting anything particular, to divorce myself as much as possible from the motions that produce the final product. As a consequence then, I often feel unjustified in claiming them as my own; instead, I think of them as products of reality expressed through my temporal vehicle. With that perspective, even if one were to consider the product as one produced by my subconscious, this one must then acknowledge that the subconscious is a product of this existence; one not possibly produced, ultimately, by anything other than the cosmos/existence/reality/strange timespace gyre in which we obliviously perne. The whole breadth of my rumination concerning these far exceeds the capability of a single post, and on the whole I hate to constrain the magnitude of conceptualization of these by others with my own. So:












The rest, as follows, are photographs which I think lend themselves to the exposition of the root problem, though it is of course in any and every photograph that could or couldn't be taken, just the same as those above.











I am now, more able than ever before to understand this place; this specific understanding, no less essential, far more than essential, that which fundamentally opposes the likewise essential anti-understanding understanding of it, it being it of course. Most days maybe a butterfly's wing wind flapped, but this May be instead the air which winged the butterfly to wind. My sincere thanks, Mr. Bynum.