Sea of Trees: Letters to My Brother

 

 

 

 

 

Sea of Trees: Letters to My Brother, No. 1–10 (Set I)

mixed media on paper, 2022

24" x 30"

One year.

 

For every word I am unable to find, for every sentence I am unable to construct, for every emotion I am unable to articulate, there is a brushstroke for it.  A mark.  A dab.  A speck.  A scribble.  A color.  Some are executed with a heavy hand, others are rendered more lightly: impressions made by the conscious and subconscious states; letters formed from the hollows and depths of life, its bends and folds; visuals of the feelings that exist, yet go unseen, unspoken.

 

You are here and a part of me always.

 

Love you forever, Brother. 

They were mountains after all.

No. 4

mixed media on paper, 2019

24" x 22"

(from Alexander Supertramp series)

Wanderers

 AS: No. 3

mixed media on paper, 2019

24" x 22"

(from Alexander Supertramp series)

Across the way, the ocean roars and rumbles
It softens just enough
for whispers to make it out of the night
An exchange
between rising sun
and luminous moon
quiets the land, anchors it
All is still
the quiet reverence of promise.

Write me poems from wherever you find yourself
and they will be heard even unspoken.

Subtleties

AS: No. 2

mixed media on paper, 2019

24" x 22"

"That's what artists do, that's what poets do . . . we all do it.  We start with something, and sometimes we destroy everything that we've made in order to get to the core place where we started from."
-Patti Smith

---

Returning to that core place . . .
 

(Alexander Supertramp series)

Teacher

 AS: No. 1

mixed media on paper, 2019

24" x 22"

How does one accept a lesson in grief?

By our mere humanness, we deny it.  

Refusing to be its pupil.

Protesting against its movement, its colloquial speech.

Scribbling over its illustrative diagrams, layering papier-mâché.

I wonder this: what does life offer to the one who accepts the lesson, even learns from it,

yet finds himself in continual conflict with his teacher?

Can a lesson be taught if the process does not reach completion?

Is there a dimension of grief that remains?

It is a longing of the deepest measures for the one who wishes to let go and return to himself,

to function and desire life again

without being reminded that grief is still present.

--

Opening up 2019 with a series very close to my heart.

Alexander Supertramp

A visual body of work exploring the meaning behind Chris McCandless's words, "I now walk into the wild." 

↟↟

(edited)

2018

T:

Color V: November
(from The Color of Emotion series)

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 22"

B:

Color VI: November
(from The Color of Emotion series)

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 22"

---

Maybe it's become tradition.

To pen a valediction for the year that was on the eve of the year to be.

On this particular eve, I am typing my entry from a hotel room overlooking the town of Banff, Alberta.  Across rooftops, the snow-covered mountain peaks of the Canadian Rockies beckon.  I mull over life something wild.  

As I reflect on the past twelve months, I see just how far I have trekked.  Allow me to be clear though: the year did not come without its difficulties.  While I experienced a record number of soaring highs, I hit a record number of pedaling lows, too.

And somewhere between the uniformed calendar squares and my distaste for them, I stopped counting.

Undoubtedly, my visit to New England and the Catskills in October was the highlight of 2018.  Autumn was alive in the east.  I plan on making it an annual tradition--to visit the region each autumn. 

As my eyelids grow ever heavy and I am on the verge of sleep,  I am feeling a multitude of emotions for 2018.  I suppose I can simply leave it there.

Wishing all a magical new year.

-OH

Personal

Color IV: August y September
(from The Color of Emotion series)

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 22"

The Color of Emotion (1 of 3)

Color I: June

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 21.5"

The Color of Emotion (2 of 3)

Color II: June

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 21.5"

The Color of Emotion (3 of 3)

Color III: July

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 21.5"

Begin Again

Memory, No. 05-01

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 26"

Happiness,

Memory, No. 0218-2: A.S.

mixed media on paper, 2018

24" x 26"

It took me a while to get here, this place of clarity,

to accept the reality that we, perhaps, were meant only for a temporary space in time.
A blip on the radar some would call it.

Setting all guesses aside,
for a period of two months,

you and I were very much real.  We were as real as I could have ever hoped for or 

imagined.  More real than the pigments on my fingertips when I paint, or the cold on my skin

during my morning run.  More real than those before you.  I trust any lingering sadness is a singular emotion created

from the great, wild hopes of someone who finally allowed herself to feel deeply

enough for another person. 

I hurt as genuinely as I did for you

because the universe was calling out to my humanness.  

We are who we are, and I choose only to take with me that of which I am certain:

I, one humble fleeting speck of existence, was met with a brilliant, like-minded thinker.
You challenged my aloneness.
You challenged my perception of happiness. 

I experienced what many others go through their entire lifetime without knowing . . .

An incomparable connection with 
a fellow human.

There is ample reason to be sad about loss, but every reason to 
find happiness in what was gained from our time together.

OH

Naive

Memory, No. 0118-4/0218-1

mixed media on paper, 2018

21" x 24"

Conversating Lines

;

Memory, No. 0118-3

mixed media on paper, 2018

21" x 24"

Listen for the silence that hangs at the end of each of her sentences.

She hurts, but lacks the words to express how she hurts.

She paints.  It is the way in which she communicates.

To Paint a Poem

 Memory, No. 0118-2

mixed media on paper, 2018

21" x 24"

Finding Shelter

Memory, No. 0118

mixed media on paper, 2018

21" x 24"

"Knight is able, after all, to interact with another person, and do so in the most open and vulnerable way.  And right then, I come the closest to understanding why Knight left.  He left because the world is not made to accommodate people like him . . . There was no place for him, and instead of suffering further, he escaped . . . The forest offered him shelter.

I think that most of us feel like something is missing from our lives . . . But life isn't about searching endlessly to find what's missing; it's about learning to live with the missing parts.

For Knight, his camp was the one spot on the planet where he knew he belonged."

-passages from pages 182-83

The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit

 

The Things We Omit

Memory: Portrait of Omission

mixed media on paper, 2017

21" x 24"

Pacify

Memory: Portrait of Empty Words

mixed media on paper, 2017

21" x 24"

A Cabin for Me, A Cabin for Us

Memory: Intentions

mixed media on paper, 2017

21" x 22"

"Some people want a huge house filled with luxuries and cars.  Others just want a tiny cabin alone in the woods away from those kinds of people."

-Jim Carrey

The Shortness of Forever

Memory, No. 10-08 (ii)

mixed media on paper, 2017
21" x 24"

To My Fellow Humans:

Be kind to each other.  
Be compassionate.
Choose empathy over apathy.

Be honest, truthful.  Share your intentions early.

Do not use one another or flatter by way of tongue.

Only say what is genuine.

Treat the heart with gentleness, and do not promise

what you cannot deliver.

Forgive.

Forgive offenses, great and small. 

Because in forgiveness, we find a way to recover.

-OH