Art To Me.

Diego On Deck

Manuel Macarrulla

Oil pastel, 2009

22 1/8" X 18"

Art, like life, is a constant struggle; a challenge.  As much as I love art it is amazing how life conspires to interfere with art making.  Unfortunately,  the dedication I feel has  too often been expressed only sporadically, or, "between spells," so to speak.  There may be time constraints imposed by employment, child rearing, or other practical concerns.  There may be the paralyzing anxiety of unemployment, which looms at present.  And yet art remains; living in the core of my brain stem, despite recurring neglect.  Like a plant that thrives despite draught, when I return to the canvas, after some absence, I'm engaged, thrilled to tackle the image, and thrilled at the process of discovery that is visual expression.  More than once, on returning to art, I have joked to myself, "I aughta go into art."

Dinah

Manuel Macarrulla

Oil Pastel, 2009

12" X 18"

The following thought, which has inspired me for a long time, evokes the nature of both poetry and painting, for me.  It is a rather anti-word statement, as the reader will see, which is ironic for two reasons: one, I actually love to express my love of art in words, and two, the speaker is a poet.  The line is a quote from Pablo Neruda, as represented in the movie Il Postino (spoken to the inarticulate male protagonist, whose name escapes me, and who beseeches Neruda to teach him poetry so that he can woo his love through poetry, as well):  "If I have to explain the poem, there is no poem."