“The beauty of everything will certainly kill me” (top photo)
All paintings and photos in this piece – Courtesy of Tristram Pinney
I have met a lot of interesting and beautiful people through Facebook, and as a long-time skeptic, I’m still regularly surprised at the strength of connection possible, over such an indirect channel.
Certain sorts of soul-stuff float well on this medium – and visual art in particular, has been a special joy for me, amplified quite beautifully, with a continuous peek-in at the ongoing work of so many other creators.
But of all my FB friends who I’ve never met in person – no one has moved me and given me such an exciting hope-boost for the future of art, quite like Tristram Pinney.
Self portrait – Tristram Pinney
His quality of output alone, is extraordinary – always the sense of new-searching and self-challenge – consistently daring use of colour – and wonderfully realized balances of the representational, symbolic, and pure abstract (full-spectrum media, too).
Very rare especially, to find a portrait artist who can work both the realistic and the beyond-real with such dextrous and subject-appropriate fluidity.
That he manages to produce such excellent work in incredible volume, only adds to our awe – and our ongoing pleasure in his grail-quest.
The other resonance (and I’m sorry, Tristram, do hope this isn’t overly presumptuous) is the struggle within – philosophical, emotional, self-definitional.
For some of us, the question of what the world is, and what we are, never does feel satisfactorily answered. This dynamic tension – a foundational insecurity, almost, is incredibly productive stuff, because it keeps us always focussed on areas of flux and contradiction – which is exactly where most life (and art) happens.
But it’s not always an easy wave to surf.
I’ve struggled with being too smart for my own good, too willful, too stubborn, too lazy and most definitely too introspective, when others almost always helped me.
I know Tristram’s struggles are his own, and mean the ‘nutcase’ in the poem’s title about me, not him (I wrote this advice, to remind myself of it – yet again).
On the other hand, all art is a sort of madness to me – not in the western sense of ailment, but in that understood and respected by so many other, older cultures – the completely other, but consistent perspective – in, but not of, the world.
As for creativity itself in the abstract? Well that creature is for-sure a kind of madness – bigger and more-than anything we can scheme, steal, or will, anyhow.
When we’re lucky, it uses us – and when we’re smart – we keep ourselves in good shape for it’s next visit, and pay it thanks with simple self-respect and openness, to each new possibility.
Anyhow – by the time I finished this poem, I was thinking about Tristram, his big move to New York, the stimulating effects this journey will no-doubt have on his work, and how pleased I’ll be to see where each new subject, lure and muse guides him.
Salvatore Paradise – Bachelor Lighting
My friend, if I had a few bucks, I’d send you a couple of spiritual road-books – but since I’m woefully skint, I hope the advice that I find I still have to give my aging creative self, might just make you laugh, in a way potentially-helpful for future self-forgiveness.
Much love to you, Tristram. So many folks are rooting for you!
I wish you all of the best oblique possibilities life can bring (since they are invariably even more interesting than the things we think we’re seeking, when we stumble into the treasure-chamber).
Cheers! (and I do sincerely hope you dig the silly pome)
This last piece won-me instantly, and continues to move me profoundly, in many ways at once.
Transit – Fog, Thiemann and Reading Light