Invocational

Invocational Works

The Invocationals were the first series I began with on leaving the world of graphic designers and illustrators, advertising agencies and corporations. I was entranced by the idea of piercing dimensions, time, and space in a manner which allowed anyone to be in any place at any time. I was creating narratives which recorded these thoughts almost as plays record stories of people’s lives. Could one have dinner on the banks of the Seine in 1934 with Maud Gonne, Pablo Picasso, Dora Carrington, Thomas Jefferson, Cleopatra, and Virginia Woolf on a Friday and by Saturday be sitting at a bar in Barcelona in 1492 with John F. Kennedy, Hedy Lamarr, Edvard Munch, Wyatt Earp, Etta Place, and Edward Murrow? What would these meetings be like?

The mind can wander a long time on thoughts such as these.

A writer whom I greatly admire once mentioned in the first book he wrote that the only way to really understand what happens and why is to write a story. Only then will you know such things. This series grew out of these conversations I was having with historical figures through reading about them, by reading their own books, views and seeing their works long after they were gone from the surface of this planet.

“The Stolen Child” — acrylic/collage/image transfer on CWP

This is probably the most complex series I ever entered into making. I loved it. It was great fun, and people seemed to enjoy the concepts and the visual maelstrom of imagery. It is playing a role in the current works I’m creating now, and it never resides to far from my sense of being as an artist. Because of that, it bears more thought, probably more words eventually on my site, for complexity takes time. In the end though, a work of art cannot be laden with too much of a predetermined message, or it becomes a static thing. If we allow the viewer to take what they feel and perceive from a work of art, are we not contributing more to the interaction than a single, narrowly focused intent? This too is a concept that has occurred to me over time. It did not just one day pop into being as a eureka moment, but as an onion comprised of many thin, translucent layers, revealing itself only in a very patient peeling away process which began to coalesce in my mind.