I began painting this piece in 2018 and “finished” it in 2019, prior to giving birth to my first child – Bea. I use quotations around the word finished because there are still parts of it that nag at me. Anyway, the painting is part of a series of four works entitled “…And Suddenly I Awoke.” The series deals with a range of subjects but addresses the importance of myths, especially religious mythology in self development. There is some motivation, at least with the title of the series, to play with the idea of moral thinking, both in traditional religious contexts as well as it’s emergence among the woke - thought this line of thinking still needs to be flushed out...
A combination of factors impacted the creation of “Wobbly.” I started going back to church at the end of 2017 after nearly a decade away from worshiping, I began reading some of the classics – Crime and Punishment, East of Eden, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, The Brothers Karamazov, Brave New World and non-fiction books as well – Shakespeare Saved My Life, Neitzche and the Nazis, excerpts from the Gulag Archipelago, Homage to Catalonia, and Edmund Morris’s biography of Teddy Roosevelt. These readings as well as the hours of TedTalks, free lectures, interviews and debates by a myriad of contemporary thinkers compelled me to examine the influence of ideas ranging from the importance of rescuing tradition, to the necessity of confronting your shadow, to the the impact of thinking symbolically and the richness this practice imbues in your worldview.
“Wobbly” portrays a figure, not Christ but a Christ-like figure, on his knees in a dramatically lit, strangely compressed and chaotic environment. The figure’s arms appear bound behind him and he wears not a crown of thorns but a crown of flowers as this is not an image of death but of life renewed again. Marble pillars have fallen off their bases, storm clouds gather behind a glittering gold gate with a crooked pole and dramatic shadows are cast upon the floor by a sun at high noon. Reflected in the metallic dome that has fallen off its pillar is a town reminiscent of van Gogh’s Starry Night but depicted in the daylight. A small cross adorns the town’s Church steeple.
The work is a contemporary depiction of faith – the faith that I wrestle with as Jacob wrestled with God. Yet it’s also much more than that. It’s a reminder that though we may tire in this fight, there’s still beauty and grace if we seek them out. And it’s about suffering, as reframed to give meaning to life. As purposeful. Yes, suffering is unrelenting, but we all suffer together. And what’s more, for better or for worse this suffering shapes us. Like the painting, we don’t have to be perfect because we are never really done. But we should still celebrate the form we take and better ourselves when we have the courage to find and critique our flaws.
A combination of factors impacted the creation of “Wobbly.” I started going back to church at the end of 2017 after nearly a decade away from worshiping, I began reading some of the classics – Crime and Punishment, East of Eden, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, The Brothers Karamazov, Brave New World and non-fiction books as well – Shakespeare Saved My Life, Neitzche and the Nazis, excerpts from the Gulag Archipelago, Homage to Catalonia, and Edmund Morris’s biography of Teddy Roosevelt. These readings as well as the hours of TedTalks, free lectures, interviews and debates by a myriad of contemporary thinkers compelled me to examine the influence of ideas ranging from the importance of rescuing tradition, to the necessity of confronting your shadow, to the the impact of thinking symbolically and the richness this practice imbues in your worldview.
“Wobbly” portrays a figure, not Christ but a Christ-like figure, on his knees in a dramatically lit, strangely compressed and chaotic environment. The figure’s arms appear bound behind him and he wears not a crown of thorns but a crown of flowers as this is not an image of death but of life renewed again. Marble pillars have fallen off their bases, storm clouds gather behind a glittering gold gate with a crooked pole and dramatic shadows are cast upon the floor by a sun at high noon. Reflected in the metallic dome that has fallen off its pillar is a town reminiscent of van Gogh’s Starry Night but depicted in the daylight. A small cross adorns the town’s Church steeple.
The work is a contemporary depiction of faith – the faith that I wrestle with as Jacob wrestled with God. Yet it’s also much more than that. It’s a reminder that though we may tire in this fight, there’s still beauty and grace if we seek them out. And it’s about suffering, as reframed to give meaning to life. As purposeful. Yes, suffering is unrelenting, but we all suffer together. And what’s more, for better or for worse this suffering shapes us. Like the painting, we don’t have to be perfect because we are never really done. But we should still celebrate the form we take and better ourselves when we have the courage to find and critique our flaws.