Merry Xmas from space; Comet 2021 A1

 

Revised poem

 (untitled)

When you’re haggard

from decades of failure,

not to mention

the many sharp sticks

of disappointment—

lines on the chin so obvious—

you can’t really present yourself

for romance with a straight face;

all you’re smart enough to know is

it’s possible, and how if it ever did,

how altered the world would appear.

But perhaps in this day and age

it’s best to conceive

of an entire life alone,

and how such has been carried out

countless times,

back into the shadowed

and ancient past

of creatures like us.

poem

 (untitled)

If the Kachinas were representations
of advanced beings it wouldn't matter;
whether them, a serpent, or a Jesus,
hopefully the return is sometime soon.
If not we stay stuck watching the alteration
of history to cinder-block and glass--
from something diverse and authentic,
to something not very diverse
and not very authentic.

At the least, there is still beauty of
Sun and Earth,
and the thoughtful acts of kindness
creating moments of mirth--
a stillness which has not yet
been swept away. 

24x36” oil paint on cotton

24x36” oil on cotton

6x8” acrylic and sumi ink

Untitled photo 2

untitled poem

 (untitled)

The poems of humans are filled with leaves;

many times illuming green,

fluttering prettily in a breeze,

a view down to lovers

on a bench.

But mostly they are on the late-autumn ground

or blowing down a street

rife with gusts of storm—

gold and earthen without scorn,

returning to what

they came from.

The metaphor that we are them,

coming and going through the ages,

is often employed,

reminding us once again the light is changing,

and that behind everything we experience is a cold—

cold enough to make ice crack—

yet still, in the tiny spaces,

warm enough

to let a kiss burn.

A little fyi and art note

We're currently in the clutches of a few multinational corporations and it's unnatural. We weren't meant to have personalities presented to us day in and day out, acting as if they have any legitimacy beyond the fact they play along to a narrative where a few white dudes are buying up everything. Just reminding you that what we're experiencing is unnatural and a full-blown farce. I still believe we can redirect the course, and in the meantime, something from Denver about a museum show next summer. She is known as a painter, but she was an artist, and painting was her primary medium; she also did photography and some folks have curated a 100 or so. Super excited to see this next summer. Preview: a ladder in her studio yard, and her dog Bo-Bo, a chow.

Pitch to Santa Barbara Studio Artists

 Hi Frances,

If you could let the board know in so many words that doctors to zillionaires to students have been charmed by my set up and I often remark that right there is one of the few places in the world an artist can get away with it. Folks on the SBSA tour are the same folks that have been taking home my work for years now. I’ve been living in SB for going on forty years, was a substitute teacher for the city all through the 00s, and am a published poet and novelist. I think I’d be a unique stop/experience for those who go on the tour, and therefore an asset to the organization. 

Awaiting word from you, thanks for your time in this matter.

Happy Holidays,

John

Untitled poem

(untitled)

I loved it, finding out

the Buddha touched Earth

with his fingers,

as witness to obtaining enlightenment,

as if Earth is conscious too,

as if everything is love.

Revised poem

 Untitled Surf Poem

So happy padding my way down the trail

to the point break once again;

to take a spot on the bench

under the thatch of shade;

to assess conditions before paddling out;

only to hear word was something about

how I tried to gouge someone’s eye

during a drunken fight when, really,

it was the other way around.

I felt like putting my head in my hands,

the weight of wondering how 

my name could be muddied so;

that anyone would believe it,

how I’ve never touched anyone

unless they touched me first,

and eye gouging was

only in matters of life and death,

not a scrap over words of disrespect.

So long as the point remains

what it’s always been—

most sparkled stage and

theatre of colored firmament—

never let the low voices down the bench

beat you back from what is true:

that words are enough,

and never hit anyone unless they hit you;

you’re here for waves,

not to validate kooks,

in a society near blind.

18x24” carbon on cotton

18x24” carbon on cotton

18x24” carbon on cotton

18x24” carbon on cotton

To Abstract Art Collective

 AAC Board of Directors,

At the end of the recent Zoom meeting introducing new members, it was voiced by more than one: “I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you.” Which underlines a founding principle of the AAC—to facilitate interaction between artists. That was why I finally joined, so bored at this late date, thought I might find a few artists to interact with.

At yesterday's board meeting a member quipped how they only use Facebook to interact with younger family members, and I know other board members who don’t like it and refuse to go near it. Say what you will about FB, it’s been here over a decade, and like it or not, is part of popular culture and contemporary life. In addition, its pages/groups are specifically built to help people of like-mind interact/get to know each other. In other words, contrary to perception of some board members, AAC’s FB page is actually a clubhouse for AAC members to share/discuss. I understand the contemporary conceit that polite society doesn’t spend time on Facebook, but in my opinion it’s fun to join a clubhouse to see what others are saying/sharing—especially if it’s a clubhouse for abstract artists. I currently manage FB pages/groups, it’s very simple, and I’d be happy to take on the task of managing the AAC page/group.

We could create an AAC “group” as clubhouse for anyone interested and retain the current AAC “page” for art notices only, as it currently exists, but at present, to have in place as informal policy, the AAC not using social media—and/or deny other AAC members from doing so—is a direct contravention of the bylaws and thus violation by board members.

Sincerely,
John De Herrera

11/21, SB CA

Late November 2021

Play script or character quote

“The difference between the artist and artisan is that one burns for the truth and the other doesn’t.”

Character quote or play script

"The takeaway from the play Hamlet is that the world is corrupt and it's up to us how we deal with it. Every human is Prince Hamlet once again."

My new deck at Rincon Point

24x30” oil paint on cotton

20x28” oil paint monotype

Monoprint

Blue colorfield

Oil paint/cotton

9x12” oil paint/cotton

Pastel

Pastel

Ink painting

Crows like Japanese peanuts.

Oil paint/spray paint

Mixed media

Mixed media

Mixed media

"...used to be such a sweet, sweet thing / 'Til they got ahold of me...."

 

Playscript

 

"Everyone always for all time got the same two choices, jump off a cliff or show the universe how tough you are."

Let A Young Human Know A Single Line Can Still Be Art (24x30" carbon/cotton)

 

Crown Of Thorns For Those Still Alive Now 2021 (27x35" carbon/cotton)

 

Birthday Cake For A King Or Queen (24x27" Carbon/Cotton Board)

 

19x24" oil pastel and gouache

 

19x24” ink painting yellow ochre and black

Green beach

untitled poem

 (untitled)

Remember when divinity needed someone extraordinarily
beautiful in every way to slip into, to sort things out?
Remember when talking with the animals
was as natural as ordering Starbucks? It’s true,
it used to be so, and may be again;
if you join those who believe
it’s waiting, just past
the latest veil. 

Old Poem, Slight Edit

 Octopus

There’s an animal with copper-based blood,

whose epidermis flows with flashes,

flowered bursts, revealing the life within.

If man and woman is synthesis

of every creature, a hierarchic piece

of every preceding age built from the bank

of an ancient river—a bridge

between spirit and nature—then maybe this

one is exemplar of the emotional

just behind the mask of everyday life;

a halo, afferent and efferent,

reticulated and coursing

between the real and the dreams.

20x20” carbon abstraction

22x28” carbon on cotton

12.5x20” carbon on cotton board; semiautonomous abstraction

Jupiter and me

Cuneiform/Creation Story

poem

 (untitled)

So you’ve found yourself in exigent circumstance again,
have you? Where to be understood is a luxury,
and to be excited a bright anomaly.

What shall you ever do sweet little nothing
in the grand scheme of things?
How will you ever make it?
How will you ever really care
enough? 

19x24” blue ink painting

19x24” sumi ink on photo paper

(untitled prose poem)

(untitled prose poem)

How sad it is that humans are so fearful and superstitious—suspicious—that we treat a late poem as final epithet rather than recent attempt to step forward towards the instructor of gods and humans, torchbearer/dispeller of darkness, kinsman of the Sun, victor in battle; lion, radiant one.

Watercolors

Pastel color field

Commission colors

22x30” acrylic ink on cotton

14x17" tempra on bristol

 

19x24” carbon on cotton

untitled poem

We wonder what sovereignty meant to Keats,
when he reminds us of the moment Prince Hamlet
commends Horatio for having little care
for what is out of his control;
envisaging all calm in all circumstance.

Perhaps he decided to recast the tenant of being Stoic
as human at our best; the top level of all the types of lives
that can be lived,
where one never complains about anything
other than lost love. 

New Tech/ink on paper

Payne’s Grey Again