16 Jan Remembrance
Painting is another way of keeping a diary.
— Pablo Picasso
I dashed off Social Distancing last March, the morning I realized Covid-19 was not just some flu, but “really real.”
Since that morning ten months ago, 389,000 Americans have died of the virus, including a close family member; many because they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—social distance. Many more Americans will surely follow.
Social Distancing proves Picasso was right about painting’s resemblance to journaling. When I look back on the piece, I remember clearly where, when, and why I painted it.
Which brings me to my topic: remembrance.
Remembrance isn’t for everyone.
It’s inconvenient and makes most people discomfited.
But remembrance is monolithic, inescapable, irrefutable. “Memory believes before knowing remembers,” as Faulkner, America’s bard of things past, said.
A painting like Social Distance, I realize, may cause viewers to distance themselves—from me.
So be it.
I don’t paint for them. I paint in the hope to attract and delight viewers who dwell in the past, as much as the present.