Elohim
ELOHIM
This collection of work explores the sublime nature of God, or the Elohim, and the deeply traditional practice of depicting the form of God. Traditional artistic routs are to portray God Jesus the son. What might occur in the challenge of giving form to the ephemeral experience of the divine, God the Father, God the holy spirit -- or even small [e] elohim in his heavenly beings.
The series delves into themes of chaos and rest, control and submission, drawing heavily from the chaos of Genesis as seen in
"Seventh Day" of rest. Pieces like "Seventh Day" and its accompanying poem capture the turmoil of a mind consumed by overwork, and improper rest only contrasted by a piece where Gods golden spirit slices through the darkness, hovers above the chaos waters and as it stands on the red lined days the final day loudly proclaimed is presence with a divine invitation to rest.
Expanding on the illusion of self-sovereignty vs hope found in spiritual surrender
How better to define the undefinable God the depicting the ineffable.
The poems are the words of man and the abstract paintings offer what it might be to glimpse the divine form
ELOHIM: Inevitable Redemption
2020
Acrylic, oils, copper pigment powder on Canvas
32x50
SOLD
-
Hope is not a familiar face, but pray It could be
Situations arise and we are without control.
Our hands tied. Our will no longer our own.
Hope is defined as an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes with respect to events and circumstances in one's life or the world at large.As a verb, it’s definitions include:
"expect with confidence"
and
"to cherish a desire with anticipation."but I am without thought of such good things in this moment
or any really moment beyond now
The future looms
as the Impending fall of the great wave
And I find I am cold beneath the shadow it castsIf only it would all just cease .
I have been living without breath pause between the moment of what is, and what will be assuming always my own inability to swimin my disorientation
I fear each desperate stroke to the top for air will be a movement downwards
into the crushing weight of unending struggle
The burden of living
So I do not move at all
But just maybe
Floating
If i opened my eyes I would seeMyself suspended amid the beauty
I would finally know its purpose, and I would not hope for the end
and just maybe, as I **acquiesce** to breathe my last I would findI always has been made with gills
ELOHIM: seventh day
2020
Acrylic and acrylic medium on canvas
12" x 20"
-
Perhaps it is only in the longest days
The ones where feet are heavy laden
and the weight of reality weighs on the bodycurling the shoulders and staggering steps
Weary a self imposed AtlasPerhaps it is only in these days
The ones that run ragged
The ones the begin without way or want
so wreathed in woemaybe it is only when we have so burnt out by our will alone
that we remember to rest