What's Missing Isn't Missing

There’s something missing
This isn’t right
Something feels off
I need to fix this

Common thoughts
Annoying, yes.
But it’s missing pieces
That fuel my ambition
To move forward
To grow
And change

Nature hates a void
It strives to fill it
Yet most of the time
I find
What’s missing isn’t missing
It hasn’t escaped
Run away
Or slipped through my fingers
I didn’t miss a boat
Or get left out of the game

Every life is as unique
As the person living it
The rules are simple
But not easy

If I want somethingI have to do it
But don’t “do" too hard
Or it’ll get undone
If I’m afraid of something
It’s probably the doorway out
Of where I admIt’s better to do it
At least to see what’s on the other side
It may feel like stepping off a cliff
Or walking in front of a bus
But as long as I'm not actually
Stepping off a cliff
Or walking in front of a bus
The solution applies

What’s missing
Isn’t a set of rules
Or instructions
A lost identity
Or a magic pill
It’s just lying in the dark
Packed away
Waiting to be rediscovered
Or possibly
Discovered
For the first time
Although usually it's more like a remembering
Than an introduction

If you can’t find it now
Keep looking
It most likely
Isn’t missing
But requires a certain version of you
To recognize it
And that version of you
You don’t recognize as you yet
Simple, right?

Think big
Because the game is rigged
In your favor  

Stephen Colbert - The Originalist

I created this piece of art as a tribute to one of my favorite comedians, and host of two of my favorite shows, "The Colbert Report" and "Late Night with Stephen Colbert." I used roofing cement, chewed bubblegum, acrylic paint, plexiglass and 8 pints of his Ben and Jerry's ice cream flavor, Americone Dream. He truly is "The Originalist." Cheers Stephen! You're making a difference in this world.  

A Birthday Vigil

My birthday is over
My special day
Passed
Signed off
And filed in a drawer
With the others
As the years pass
My cabinet is getting more full
Watching fireworks at Disneyland
A surprise party at my parents house
A concert my band performed in Chicago
The song my wife wrote and sang to me in the mountains

Each one a special kind of special
Completely different
With one thing in common

A reluctance to let it go

I don’t make a big deal of birthdays
But I take the time
To do what I want
And step away
For me, a birthday is freedom
A crack in the sidewalk
Noticed as I pass by
To remind me the distance I’ve covered
And how far I still have to go

Hopefully

But If every day was my birthday
I’d never get anything done
I’d get bored
So I’d start doing some stuff
And then some more
Eventually, my life would look a lot like it does today
I understand that this is natural
I learned a long time ago
Not to fight nature
It’a a better collaborator
Than adversary
You can reroute a river by digging a trench
But to stop it completely requires a dam
And even then
Water pools up
You have to do something with it
Or the dam breaks

This is how our lives work
And I got out of the dam building business years ago
These days I dig trenches
So today I woke up
And did what I know how to do
I grabbed my shovel and started digging  

I should feel more (or less)

Lying on the beach
Under the sun
Breathing
Feeling
Just letting its rays
Have their way with me
Maybe a gentle breeze
To keep me cool
While I’m being warmed on the inside

Nowhere to be
No one to answer to

Ahhhh…A moment like this
Only happens in my mind
Because if I were actually lying there
I would be too hot
Or too cold
Sand would blow in my mouth
Or someone would be talking too loud
A little too close
About things I disagree with
Or feel are unimportant
Or my thinking machine
Would take over
Crashing the party
Telling me
“Stop.”
“Enjoy.”
“Now.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Why do I feel like this?”
“It’s so nice here.”
“I should feel better.”
“I should feel more."
“I should feel less."

I’d somehow focus
On the sideshow
And miss outOn the beauty
Of my perfect moment
Not to say it’s never happened

A real moment
Undisturbed by my
Inability to fully appreciate it
I know how it feels
I’ve been there
But I have to admit
It’s more rare than I’d like
Not to say it’s not worth trying 

Nothing's Wrong-ish

Rob Grad artist blog

I keep catching myself thinking
I want nothing wrong
I want days with smooth edges
And no complications
But the truth is
If I really want nothing wrong
Then I have to imagine it
Because life doesn’t work that way
Its' perfection lies elsewhere

In the bizarre contradictions
Of lessons learned
Wisdom gained
And the love I allow myself to feel
It lies in the evolution of how I see myself
And the world around me
Through time

These things are harder to appreciate
Than good news
Or a check in the mail

This kind of perfection
Is more like standing on a cliff
With a beautiful view
Almost instantly forgetting
That five minutes ago
I was on a steep trail
Not knowing where it was going to end
Or how much further I had to go
Dying of thirst
Because I didn’t bring enough water
Starving because I ran out to food
Thinking I was about to pass out
Gasping for air
Wondering if my legs were going to collapse
From sheer exhaustion
Thinking "This is too long"
"This is too hard”
“I’m an idiot for even trying"
“This better be worth it"

It almost always is. 

The Subtle Art of Heartbreak

Life is smart
It beats me up just enough
To expose what’s under my skin
So I can see better
What I’m really made of
Which is almost always
More than I think
It’s the subtle art of heartbreak
That expands my sense of who I am
When you meet someone new
You can tell
If they don’t really know
If they haven’t been stretched that way
They might be light
Fun
A good person by all measures
But it’s like
They only live in the shallow end of the pool
It’s those who have tasted the gruel
Lost in a duel
And found a way
To stand back up and refuel
That I aspire to understand
Pain sucks
Period.
And I avoid it whenever possible
But I find a certain amount is functional
It tells me where to go
It forges strength that I need
To survive and thrive in this world
The resilience to build something
The humility to stay open
And adjust
The funny thing is
When I give my pain purpose like that
It doesn't hurt so bad
It sort of sits into the tapestry of everything else
And overall, the picture is pretty good
Every great tv show has conflict
Every great movie has drama
Every great conversation has two sides
And every great painting brings something unexpected
The trick is to ride the ride

Where the Magic Happens

Most of our lives are spent in the moments
Between the moments
The large swaths of time
Sandwiched between memories
I’m beginning to think maybe
That’s by design
What if the things that really matter
Happen in between
The things we think really matter?
Experienced meditators
Focus on the space between thoughts
When my grandfather passed away
And then my stepfatherI found myself remembering more
Beige moments
Humdrum lunches
On random Wednesdays
When nothing in particular happened
That’s what I miss the most
Any successes I’ve had
Stemmed from the steady application
Of pressure
Over time
On nondescript days
When no one was looking
Not that one day I signed the record deal
Or that time whenSomeone in a key position
Said they liked something I madeIt’s a hard point of view
To adapt to
We’re trained to chase lightning
News headlines only cover outcomes
Because process is boring
Monotonous
and
Beautiful
Our planet was created over millions of years
And my life is being created over time
Not in a series of isolated moments
But in a large, winding arcNature is slow
And chill
But not afraid to jump
From the darkness like
A horror movie villain
I still need a thrill from time to time
It keeps my attentionLike the news
But it’s generally not where the magic happens 

It's True*

Have you ever believed something
That turned out wasn’t true?
Belief is malleable
Fallable
As more information
Reveals itself
The picture can completely change
I know
Because I’m an artist
My truth changes every day
I draw another line
Or put some red in there
And it’s an entirely different picture
Scientists used to think the world was flat
And the earth was the center of the Universe
My friend Fred thought his girlfriend
Was in love with him
But he just pointed his love
At someone who didn’t exist
Words on a screen
Or from someone’s mouth
Aren't enough
A fake match
Of interpreted facts
That feel “right” to me
Tethered to the wind
With no ground to stand on
Is kind of terrifying
Like I don’t exist
But real freedom can be just that
Terrifying
It doesn’t matter how sure I am
I try to remember
There is a chance
I’m wrong
It’s good to be passionate
But I get suspicious
Of people who claim to know too much
Or seem overly confident
Because even if it turns out
They’re right today
They could be wrong tomorrow
When the next truth
In an eternity of unseen truths
Lying ahead
Rears its head 

Virtual Studio Visit

I get a lot of requests to see more of my studio and my process as my work moves along. Here's a quick tour of my workspace.

How Tends to Work Itself Out

contemporary art drawing

I don’t know what to say
Sometimes I feel so much
It’s overwhelming
And inspiring
But not much bubbles up
No explanations
No images
No songs
No riveting stories to share
Just a sense of where I am
And what I need to do
It’s simple really
Do things I didn’t do before
Because I couldn’t see how
Or why
I still don’t know how
But I know why
And now I know a million things
Not to do
My life is like
A go kart on a track
Wearing a paper bag over my head
With a single pinhole
To seeI drive into the light
Slamming into barriers
Of stacked tires
Until I find forward
If you know why
How tends to work itself out.

Time Moves. And So Do I.

Another month whizzes by
Before you know it
This year will be over
Set to rest
With the rest of them
A catalog of memories
And experiences
Squashed in a file
Somewhere in the folds
Of my brain

What will I say I did?
How will I think it went?
Probably better, the same and worse
Than the last one
In different ways

Time has a way of traveling
Downhill
And uphill
At the same time
It’s a trickster

Physicists say
It doesn’t exist at all

At the speed of light
But I travel slower than that
My hair gets grayer
My body more wrinkled
And my spirit smarter

I’ll take smarts over
Smooth skin
And dark hair
Anytime
If that’s the trade with the universe
I’ll take it
It’s a good trade

I wrote a song once called June
It said

“I found myself
In a gutter by the lake
An empathy shell
Whose shadow led the way “

I wasn’t in a good place
But I found something
During that time
In myself
I didn’t know was there
And it was shiny
And resilient

Time may not technically exist
But I find the illusion helpful

I Gotta Go Back

I wrote this as a companion piece to my solo show "I Got This" at Gallery 825 in Los Angeles. On view until June 1, 2018.

I Gotta Go Back

I gotta go back
Back before I wasn’t sure
Before disappointment got me down
Back before I had questions
And got all confused
Before I thought I understood
Before “normal” happened
When I didn’t have to think about it
I just knew
Knew what I was made of
And what I could do
I gotta go back
Before I believed what I was told
And mislearned what I learned
When my instinct was the undisputed champ
Of my internal world
Before things didn’t work out
Before I got burned
Dumped and churned out for nothing
Before I got screwed up
And unappointed judges cut me down
I admit
I have to go back a long way
Before I knew much about
Pretty much anything
Which left my horizon wide
And I was up for the ride
It’s a bit blurry
But if I close my eyes
And think hard enough
I got this.

Art Never Disappoints

I'm working on my new solo show opening in a few weeks. Funny how I think I can have an idea, but the art has a mind of its own. It's part of what I love about being an artist.

Stepping Back to Reassess in Big Sur

I took an extra day in Big Sur as I'm gearing up for my upcoming solo show at Gallery 825 in Los Angeles. Articulating artwork for context is not a particularly easy task, but a necessary part of the process.

Reclaiming the Awful. Feeling Alive Amidst Chaos and Tragedy.

I thought I’d go numb.  Like I usually do.  Chalk it all up to present day “reality” and soldier on.  But today I can’t do that.  I’m feeling it.  All of it.  The worst mass shooting in modern American history happened yesterday, and one of my heroes, one of the beacons on my horizon, passed away.  Tom Petty.

We’ve seen a rash of both over the past couple years.  Mass shootings and the musical heroes of my generation dying too young.  It’s easy to become desensitized and accustomed to such things.

And that’s how I was feeling.  Until yesterday.  A space opened up inside and today I feel as sensitive as I can remember.

It's Awful

It's awful.  As awful as awful gets.  But the simple fact that I'm feeling that, the intensity of that, reminds me I'm alive.  And there’s something achingly beautiful about it.  I don’t think I realized how much I’ve turned off over the years.  It’s not easy to stay open.  To stay sensitized.  To stay alive inside in the face of it all.  Building up a thick skin is a great device for self preservation.  Totally functional.  Totally understandable.  Especially if you spend any time in front of the news.  But there is a cost.

I shuffled my schedule around recently and I’ve been taking an hour to myself every morning.  I read, write, exercise and meditate a bit.  As my life continues to move faster and faster, I’m realizing how much I’ve been leaving behind.  This new schedule is making a huge difference.

Have you ever seen the movie “Razors Edge”?  Early 80’s.  Stars Bill Murray.  If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.  One of my all time favorites.  He’s funny in it, but it’s not a funny movie.  The basic premise is he’s looking to find that edge in life.  And live there.  And how hard it is.  I get that. 

The edge is where life lives.  I’ve spent various times in my life trying to completely avoid that edge to save myself the pain, and other times I've fallen right on top of it, slashing myself and bleeding all over the floor.  It hasn’t been graceful.  And maybe I’m just bleeding to you on the floor right now.  I don’t know.

But there’s something alive in me this morning in spite of this awful act of darkness, and the unavoidable mortality awaiting all of us.  It's that connection with the part of myself that actually gives a shit.  It's not an easy thing to explain.  It's not like I haven't given a shit.  I do.  Maybe too much.  And that's been hard for me.   

Strangely, I don’t want to move.  I don’t want to lose this.  And yet the clock is ticking.  My quiet time this morning will end, and the day will start screaming like a starving child.  I’m savoring this moment. 

It’s quiet inside me right now.  And in a weird way everything makes sense.  A space has been created.  And I’m just being there.  Sitting in it.

There's Stuff to Do

Don’t get me wrong.  There are things to do.  I sent a message to Paul Ryan to let him know how hollow his condolences are.  Reminding him he’s actually in a position to do something about all this.  The Constitution was not written for cowards to hide behind.  It was intended to be flexible enough to change with the times.  Our forefathers built that functionality right into it.  They would be mortified at this lack of common sense.  It shouldn't be a political issue.  It's a human issue.  

Then I read a couple articles about Tom Petty which my friends sent me, and remembered how I lived on a steady diet of the song “Southern Accents” while my first band Kik Tracee started to unravel.  I was becoming very disillusioned and that song reminded me why I chose music.  And how much that meant to me.  That song still does it for me.  It creates this transcendent sense of spiritual homesickness.  Best way I can describe it. 

Welcome to the Edge

My art practice has always been the home I limp back to.  And it’s served me well.  But I know even after all these years, I’m just beginning.  As I grow and change, so does my art.  Today is a marker for me, but something has already been in motion.  I’ve been feeling it the past couple weeks.  I’m excited and a little scared to see what’s going to come up.  I guess welcome to the edge, right?

Tragedy brings different things out in all of us.  I try to use most situations as inspiration to help scrape the gunk I've got caked on my walls. What happened yesterday there aren't words to describe.  And I never met Tom Petty.  But I will miss him dearly. 

I guess we do the best we can.  But sometimes I think it's easy to underestimate what my "best" is.  It's usually just an excuse. "Yeah, I tried. It was the best I could do," or "I know this isn't going well.  But it's the best I can do." 

I want to do better than my "best."

P.S. I have a long history with Las Vegas.  Even though the city is only a shadow of what it used to be, that place changed my life.  Many stories to be shared another time.  As a tribute to the city itself and everyone there, I did a quick performance of "Viva Las Vegas."

P.P.S. Tom Petty tribute to come.  That's next level. I want to spend some time on that.

Context is Everything

Art is as much about what is left out as much what's put in. I took a quick work trip and had some time to think about context.

Half a Heart

I Got This - Mixed Media Assemblage

I wrote this prose as a companion to a new series I'm working on called I Got This.  I'm also modifying the text as a lyric to a new song. The visual body of work was originally inspired by my book Art. Now. More Than Ever. which I'm just putting the finishing touches on. These abstract portraits are an exploration of confidence, and how we feel about ourselves internally versus how we represent and project our identity into the world.—————————————————————————————————————-I lost touch
It was all too much
I used to believe
Life was bigger than life
Sunsets gave me chills
And inspiration was simply an act of will
I felt like a hero in a Hollywood movie
I knew it wouldn’t be easy
But I’d persevere
I’d overcome
And everything would fall into place
Eventually
It happens slow
The years grind on
And it gets harder
To commit
To stay brave
To keep faith
Then one day you wake up
And there's too much to keep track of
Too much to maintain
Too many leaks to tend to
Just to keep the boat from sinking
I went down
And got unfound
I'm a stranger to myself now
I look in the mirror
And I think
Who's that?
When did he get here?
How long is he staying?
Maybe I should make up the guest room
He's old
And starting to gray
I knew he was coming
I expected him
But who knew he’d get here so soon?
By now I thought I’d be somewhere else
I thought I’d be someone else
I turn on the tv and check my phone
Everyone looks so confident
So sure of themselves
Beautiful pictures of vacations, houses and kids
Delicious meals
I want their life
Or I want that life
I'm not sure it's really their life either
I had to work this morning
I ate cereal for lunch
Right now I’m about to pull my hair out
And run down the street screaming in my underwear
With no shoes
What did I miss?
Where did I go wrong?
I feel bad for not feeling better
By most measures I've got it good
I'm an ungrateful prick
I still remember what it feels like
To be excited
To be interested
To want to be alive
It's like I'm tethered to a post
And that memory is here to tease me
With a biscuit
And promises
Just out of reach
If I look like I’ve got it together
Look again
My mind's not alright
When it's all too much
And you're out of touch
You become one more crazy
In a sea of crazies
Surrounded by so much crazy
You see nothing but crazy
Then suddenly
Nothing seems so crazy
And people say things like
"You'll get through it.”
Or…“You’ll see.
Things will change.”
You can die waiting for change.
Despite my best intentions
And years of hard work, discipline and effort
Somehow I wound up here
With half a heart
But half a heart
Is still a start
And if I'm sitting here bleeding
That means my heart is still beating
The game’s not over

Reconnecting through art journaling

Keyboards and computers have their place, but for certain things, the energy of a pen and paper can't be replaced.  I recently returned to writing in a journal by hand to connect my thoughts.  It's been yielding great results in my art. Here's a quick video about what I'm doing and why.

Art goes up. Doesn't come down.

Final install day at the Griffin Club in Los Angeles.  4 of my art pieces have a new home.  Even though it inspires me to make more and try to outdo myself, I still find it difficult to say goodbye sometimes.  I was able to shoot a quick video today.  Not quite as crazy there.

The Road to Art Basel #5

This is the last video in my Road to Basel series which documents my preparation for, and showing in Basel Switzerland during Art Basel.
We took a couple days to relax before heading home.  I had a great trip, but riding this luge down Mount Pilatus was definitely one of the high points. SO FUN!!!!