Marx says in the introduction to the Grundrisse:
“The concrete is concrete because it is the concentration of many determinations, hence unity of the diverse. It appears in the process of thinking, therefore, as a process of concentration, as a result not as a point of departure, even though it is the point of departure in reality and hence also the point of departure for observation and conception”.
I liken the act of drawing to this way of thinking. To draw is to concentrate and unify a diverse and infinite number of points and observations. My drawing reinforces my perception of the concrete, and my perception reinforces my drawing. I proceed from my observation to the page, the marks on the page then create a system, which then continues to inform my observation. A dialectic emerges.
A highway by any other name
Is still a highway. The viaduct has been flattened, not replaced. It exists in a new form. Six lanes of high-speed traffic whooshing by at 50 mph. Hardly a picturesque sight for the waterfront. And to call this eye sore of a road Dzidzilalich is an insult in of itself, but also to the original name of the Duwamish village that once lived here which is correctly written dᶻidᶻəlalič “little crossing over point”.
Docking clipper
The water is always what interests me first. The waves will never submit to the eye of the artist. How to capture motion in a single moment? To both imply the moment before and after. The creation of a mark indicates stagnation and permanence. But waves have no permanence. By their very nature, they are swirling, crashing, forming, and refashioning themselves. A docking clipper that takes passengers between downtown and West Seattle pushes water to the shore.
The waves I once saw a pattern in have been subsumed under the wake.
The shade of London Planes
No thought. Just immediate perceptions of color and light. The beauty of watercolor is its blurred instantaneity.
Occidental Square | linear representation
The inventiveness of drawing is in the line. A one-dimensional mark. Having neither breadth nor width, the line exists only in the mind of the viewer. An imposition on reality to make reality more comprehensible.
A gesture: Horse, Wood, Bronze
What if a gesture drawing of a horse was cast in bronze, and made to look as if it were made out of reclaimed driftwood? That is what Deborah Butterfield has done. And I reverse the process, moving from sculpture to drawing. Flattening the form. Choosing one out of an infinite number of points of view.
Post Ave and a pocket of sky
Post Ave turns at an angle of approximately 30 degrees to the west as it continues north. Directly behind me, Yesler runs east-west. But the next street to the north, also out of sight, runs northeast-southwest.