Last night was JB’s art show at our gallery In the Table/ On the Wall (Previous Shows: Michael Collects, Gregory Paints; Soiled opening). Since JB’s retirement about six years ago, he has become even more prolific in his art production producing scrolls, paintings, sculptures of wood and of paper, a veteran’s project accompanied with some documented guerilla theater. Our house was filled upstairs and down with the results of his exploration of the meaningful symbols of his life’s quest.
I have watched this work being produced over the years, but somehow, all of it out in our space– not piled, crammed, or stacked in JB’s studio– released an almost overwhelming visual ex-uberance and creative gen-erativity animating the entire house. What is that “thing” which begs to be graphically, tangibly, organically releas-ed? What makes it feel so mysterious? so vulnerable? so sacred?
JB gave tours of his work, his life, his essence all evening.
Celebrations of spirit and expression and commitment are always worth observing– especially accompanied with good friends, delicious food and drink, and a fearless openness to mystery.