An Unveiling / Ain’t no ONE like the ONE ya got.
The concept had been stirring in my brain for sometime. It seemed ridiculous and silly, something to scoff at, but still, it stayed, lodged deep within the confines of my brain, leaving me curious of how such an image might be portrayed on canvas. Completely outrageous but bound for absolute notoriety I couldn’t just let the image seep through and leave me feeling empty and cowardly, and so I pursued it. I had to.
Two of the most mythical men in my upbringing carried with them a sense of otherworldly powers, images / portraits / personas and prestige’s that I could only describe as REVERED. Growing up as a mormon boy I was neck deep in story / myth / legend of the man, Joseph Smith Jr. and his predecessor Brigham Young. The stories that these two men left behind kept me enchanted and intrigued from an early age. The mystical and magical tales that I was told of the two giants kept me feeling completely incapable of ever achieving a life as holy and pure as the ones of the two aforementioned religious leaders.
“You know what blood looks like in a black and white video? SHADOWS!” -John Prine I can only assume (assumption is for the bigot), suppose most, if not all of us grow up in the shadows of SOME one or SOME thing that could (though not MUST) be categorized as “otherworldly”, be it parents, grandparents, siblings, gods, prophets, poets, singers and the like. As I got older the shadows of these two and others were in constant view, projecting what a boy / man / person could and should be, and I hadn’t any reason to believe that this feeling would or could (for that matter) change. The utter acceptance of the person I had been, that I was, in the current moment, and that I might or might not become in future days had never (nor has) completely arrived. BUT! I had come to the conclusion (which is in a constant state of sway), through some detangling of my thought, that I had no obligation to any person / parent or other to be THIS way or THAT way. That I had no reason to walk with the right foot first or the left, and that the only arrow I was to (if it was to be mine) focus on was the one upon which I was traveling. The part of me that had been hidden in the shadow of him or her, this or that was emerging, albeit slowly, out of a circle of cloud, in search and question of what it was that I WANTED (I truly had no bloody idea) to do with the days of my life, and not what I had been taught that I wanted (and or needed).
Brian Koch has been a good friend of mine for many a moon, through those years of friendship and experience I have had other images seep into my thinking’s, consuming the side of my brain that is in NEED of relief, a antidote to the tremor. Some of these rambling images have had such an impression that I have forced (things are bound for true intensity) Brian to paint them on canvas for me, to be hung / displayed inside of Willamette MTN. As I made mention of the new IDEA that I had for a painting Brian seemed giddy / excited / nervous with the concept of the whole thing. I knew how it MUST have sounded, but I had to pursue it, see it through, finish the concept. And so it happened.
The idea had first been discussed, before I had much time the image that had been floating around in my head was suddenly put into words and those into sketches, sketches that would be smeared with paints and colors upon the back of a stretched canvas. WHAT!? Was this REALLY happening? I felt only power enough to embrace the idea (I get so dramatic) and move on, live and die with the product of your hands. It just happened so quickly. The whole concept was to make light that which was once (for me) SO HEAVY. To take something that at one time consumed your (my) whole breath, day, night, dream, thought and turn it into vapor, dissipating with the softest of breezes. After Brian’s dedicated artistry was finished I was convinced that there had to be a celebration of sorts! A painting! A painting! There was surely a festivity in order, how could there not be? (gawd forbid). The date was set. February 26th. We would welcome friends and family into the MTN to celebrate early in the wonderment of the living. The communal aspect of our brotherhood and friendship, with art and unity as the crowning jewel of the whole evening.
Two days before the “unveiling” was to take place I received a call from my Mother, informing me that her and my Father would be arriving a day early in order to attend the Face book event that I had invited them to: “The New Painting Unveiling. A Celebration” This caught me more off guard than I could have imagined. I was proud of what the painting held, but felt afraid that the pride might not be shared with that of my own blood. This news took the celebration and shed a new kind of light on it, one that I was not entirely sure I was comfortable with, but as life and death go, we moved along. People began showing up at 8pm, by 9 we were in the studio, the painting covered in curtain, hanging on wall, a mystery to most in attendance as to what the canvas might be holding. There was food and drink that had been brought by all. Strangers meeting strangers, caution led to comfort and made for a perfect mixture of emotion. A little after 9pm Timmy sang two songs for us, after which Stewart Wheeler took us into the realm of the unknown, soaring his voice and elevating us up, through and past the rafters of the studio. He ended his singings. I was nervous. What was I doing? I stood up and headed toward the sheet that covered the newest addition to the MTN.
Timmy The Teeth / One Man I Love
Father James / Another Man I Love
Stewart Wheeler / A True Friend
An inspiring Artist / Friend / Father. Brian Koch
In life (and yes, I can only speak from my own human entrapment) we are capable and maybe even likely to create our own brand of reality, our own mythology, an environment that is able to serve as a cradle to our wildest and most wondrous dreams. It is in this creation that I find my lover, my boy, my little gal, my amigos, my parents and family, my brother and animals, all pushing me ADELANTE. And I think forward is the only direction that actually computes, that can actually serve as a fulfillment.
“Mormon Culture” a painting by Brian Koch
(photos taken by Jennifer Carter)
And so, here is to your creation, to his and her creation, the mystical myths and legends that we are all building, with little reason, much reason or no reason at all.
Joshua (howling)