The Train Story

I have two compelling impulses. One is to do methodical, repetitious tasks; the other is to make wild grand gestures. These two aspects of myself are difficult to reconcile unless I allow them to take place at different times. That is, of course, generally how I work it. But as an artist I’d really like to see the two mechanisms work together. I envision great works of art will flow from this symbiosis. Much like the amazing paintings I’ve made in my dreams- the ones I cannot actually make because they don’t have enough specificity. Maybe that’s the real reason I like abstraction so much -it allows that vagueness to be a part of an image.

When I started making grid based works I was drawn to the methodical nature of the process as well as the attention to detail. These works still lack that grand gesture but I have to admit I am very attracted to them. Instead, the grid works, seem homely and revelatory. They often seem to have an embarrassing sincerity, as if they are trying their very hardest and revealing all. “All” is really pretty ordinary, hence the sense of embarrassment.

The first time I entered a grid based painting into a show I was reminded of the train story. The train story, for those who don’t know, takes place in 1978ish, in third grade at Mary Queen of Heaven grade school. Our assignment was to write down something that we wanted more than anything else in the whole world. I knew EXACTLY what I wanted. I wanted an electric train. So…

I completed my written assignment, marched into class, sat down in the circle to announce said desire when my turn came AND…

Patiently listened as the first, and then second, and then third student announced that they would like “to see the face of Jesus.” Oh SHIT. Cause I really wanted that train. Plus I had already written it down and did I mention that I really wanted that train? But I can see already that my desire is so, hmm, base and everyone else’s desires are so much…higher reaching (you get the idea right?) But I am NOT willing to jeopardize the train just for the face of Jesus, especially when I’m pretty sure I’ll get to see it anyway after I’ve died, after many years of PLAYING WITH MY ELECTRIC TRAIN!!!

This was quite a struggle. And finally when my turn came I resolved it by saying “I’d like an electric train ANDTOSEETHEFACEOFJESUS.”

Epilogue:
I got the train.