Ajouté le 7 sept. 2025
What Others Say
Donald S. Yarab (Northcoast Antiquarian 2025-06-15)
Flickers of Being especially captures my affection. When I encounter Flickers of Being, I do not merely observe—I listen. The painting unfolds like a score written in light, yet what speaks loudest are the silences: the moments between sounds.
These flickers are not noise, nor noise’s negation, but the luminous residue of becoming—each mark suspended in its own awareness, vibrating with the tension of what was almost said, almost touched. I think of Webern not merely in musical analogy but as a spiritual kin to your aesthetic: every line here has the compression of a breath held too long, the intimacy of a whisper withheld.
And in these silences—these intervals between strokes—I sense time, not as a measure, but as a folding. The past does not recede, nor the future beckon; both are enfolded into this now, trembling, like galaxies glimpsed when I close my eyes in meditation and look inward. Behind the lids: nebulae bloom, filaments of light spiral and collapse, the cosmos speaks in color. Your painting reflects this inward sky—its energies not depicted, but enacted.
I thought of a few lines of mine:
Poetry or prose—I know not,
but I find myself
peering ov’r the edge,
where time enfolds—
not lost,
but ready.
And again:
Past, present, future—are they separate streams,
or one river coursing through the self,
an unbroken thread of light,
where time is nothing but a veil?
Flickers of Being poses this same question—not to answer it, but to dwell within it. Like the gaps between notes in a Webern quartet, it is in the intervals—those flickering silences—that your presence most fully emerges. This is not simply a self-portrait, but a meditation on being itself, rendered in the visual language of breath, color, and stillness.