Acrylic on Gypsum
96'x48"
Kim Barry
"I paint figures with little or no senses about them- no eyes, ears, noses, mouths. This is a constant and for good reason. We tend not to use them. In Disconnected, the people are running to and from ambiguous places without sensing where they are going and where they have come from; never taking notice to those around them and feeling isolated in their own action. Before I turned on to real living in the small town of Jacksonville, FL and learned to build a sense of community and true friendships, I was, temporarily trying my hat as one of the figures with a laundry list of non essential material wants and superficial relationships based on getting ahead. It comes down to trust. Trusting yourself enough that you can create a life better then the life sold in the commercial."- 2007? 2008? KB
It's 3am, my beagle, Rory, is snoring louder than most 300lb men with acute sleep apnea, and I have been avoiding having to write this blog regarding this painting for over a week. Above, was my brief quip on the first version of this piece, Disconnect I, written and published in 2007 or 2008. At the time, it felt much more objective. Like I had gained some guru foothold on the mountain of self righteousness by letting go of a few materialistic virtues and thus, feeling above it all for a little while. I was living in utopia. The peace, then clarity that comes only when the basic necessities of life are checked off the to do list while "work" is then, currently defined as making coffee and sitting in a kiddie pool all day thinking up what I shall paint this evening, makes for a nice little pot bellied Buddha of tranquil judgement of everyone in the rat race. I could slow down enough to see how my former corporate comrades were burning out with 25 more years to go. I saw interviews for mutual life venture capitalistic gains instead of naturally developing love stories. I saw people too scared to really stop for moment and notice that someone has crossed their path, just for a moment, but stopping would screw up their perfect running stride to nowhere and damn if the abs don't look great. But to the one with open, visionary eyes, what an amazing moment to notice. Maybe this is THE moment everything could change for the better because that person noticed the other. Noticing. Taking note of what surrounds you and reaching out because it's worth it. There are no coincidences. Maybe there are consequences, sure. Maybe the other person is blind as a bat running to their next lipo laser, chem peel, Oprah rerun, bunko party. But my gut says likes attract likes- for the most part. So, chances are it's worth the reach. This is a testament in faith coming from one who's first love was commonly known as, "Wing Ding" and a steady as she goes record since.
Enter Phase II of the Disconnect in us all.
Language.
Communication.
Breakdown.
I have met many people in my travels. I have made some lifer friends. I have made a few enemies, and find the road between the two is a 2" painted yellow line. It's what you say, no it's not what you say, it's how you say it , no it's not how you say it, it's how you texted, emailed, googled, signed, spoke with your eyes........., no,.......... it's........ I don't know!
What I have come to understand is this. If people want to understand, they will. If they don't, they won't. There are a lot of people that just don't, won't, and move on to an easier conversation. In my book, it's the norm. I am the first to champion these folks in sympathy. Sometimes, being in their shoes with me, is not unlike trying to understand a half rate version of Thomas Pynchon while being simultaneously wrapped up in 80 inches of great gams. It's a death throws match for most. I know. And I, myself, have usually gone for a side or two or the whole dinner plate of the wild and crazy guy hanging from the stage, cupping a bottle of Jim, wearing Woody Allen glasses, owning the crazy eyes, and bordering on comedic genius yet inapropro tourrettes syndrome. And then I think, they sooooo get me. Ok, my delusion is well documented, noted, and in repair. Let's get back to generalities.
Maybe people do not want to hear what the other has to say because they want it to work their way and are deathly afraid of listening to a slightly different, though neutral, conversation. Crap. Can't we just have MY conversation??? This is such threat! It would be so much easier for me to build something with you.
I have been telepathically asked, over and over, with friends and lovers to do just that and have gone monk silent for upwards of 2 years at a time.........until crazytown was complete. Then it was my single duty after such due course to be the 20 foot toddler in LegoLand. Not good.
So, overcompensating is a natural, obnoxious pendulum swing back to the middle and I am avoiding direct hits via you fine people.
Truth? The bigger the city, the more disconnect. There are bigger egos, less patience, more ambition, less care, more to prove, less opting to learn, simpler to objectify than to humanize, easier to function in daily routine, harder to pull one out of a could be funk. Who knows? Maybe it's just me. But I like a place where everyone knows my name cause they know me, not because they Googled me from afar.
Quick fix? Meet a neighbor.
And stop checking out your abs. . . . .jesus.
It's now 7am. Bed time.
Big Love to D, R & DR
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