Bobby D - De Niro Times Two

Just caught the best part of the 1995 movie "Heat" tonight where Al Pacino (my fav of all time) and Robert De Niro sit at a diner having a deadly cat-and-mouse conversation.  I love when Al says, "Brother, you are going down."  Great, great movie.  Anyway, thought I'm pay homage to the current, aged Robert De Niro.  Thought about stopping just in the black and white version, but he has fairly red cheeks at times, and I wanted to capture that.

Just a few minutes of the restaurant conversation between Al Pacino and Robert De Niro in "Heat."

Robin Williams

Goodbye, Robin Williams.  My heart aches for you.

You were a part of my whole life from "Mork and Mindy" forward.  It was your darker roles that showed, in my humble opinion, your talented soul.  I mean, who could imitate your manic comedic genius, perhaps only Jim Carrey comes close to that?  Steve Martin also, had that crazy body movement, but slowed down to the nth degree in comparison to you.  But it was the sweetness of your soul, the sadness in your twinkling eyes--how could those two things be combined?--that showed your gentleness and awesome talent.

I remember your malevolent turn in "Insomnia" with Al Pacino and Hilary Swank that shocked me at your depth.  I saw them all--"The World According to Garp," "Good Morning, Vietnam," but that was the one that exposed me to what was inside of you.

And I will never forget my favorite part of "Good Will Hunting."  Your comment to Matt Damon's "Will" about living life, loving a woman, seeing Michelangelo's creations in person...you were so touching.

I'm so sorry you had pain in your life.  Isn't it amazing how many comedic geniuses have that ache touching them inside?  I hope you are at peace, dear Robin, and your pain has ended.  Thank you for all your gifts that you shared so generously with this world.

"Good Will Hunting" - Bench Scene

One day later, here's the best article I have read so far on his struggle:  Robin Williams.

Later still, this sane and compassionate one from Flavorwire:
Robin Williams and the Myth of Battling Depression
and this from The New Yorker: "Suicide: A Crime of Lonliness."

Hope Floats and Soul Feels--really, there's an explanation for this!

I can just feel people worried about my mental state on this one.  I actually painted this in June, right after that "Phone Call in Red."  I did the same thing, saturating the Bristol page with copious amounts of water, but to a greater degree this time around.  I painted this one in green ink, and almost wished I had left it alone right there.  Something with the running green and starkness of white appealed to me, but I kept going. 

It made me think of the 1956 French Picasso documentary, "Le Mystere Picasso" ("The Mystery of Picasso"),--NOT that I think I'm Picasso!  But towards the end of the film, he paints a picture and you want him to just stop.  It's wonderful.  But he keeps going...and there's another moment where you think, STOP!  You'll ruin it!  And onward he goes, painting over, blocking out, on and on, until even he admits that on this one, he went too far.  He couldn't save it any longer.  But as I lost my first strictly green and white painting, the one where the eyes conveyed more apprehension than sadness, I thought of Pablo.  And then I thought, maybe you can never get to be a great artist, or at least the best artist you can be, if you're not willing to destroy your own art.

I read once where someone said you should show the process of your creations.  And I do, at times.  But more often than not, I have entered some sort of Zen zone.  Even I don't know what I'm creating.  Most of the time I don't.  And in those moments, I never think to myself to stop and take a picture of what I'm doing.  I WISH I had that green and white photo, but as Al Pacino said of the NYC rooftop playgrounds of his youth, "that world is gone."

I have some need to explain what this is about, but why?  Is it less artistic, because I feel that I want to explain?  On one hand, because I'm not a stop, take-a-picture-along-the-way painter, I think that my words are my photo timeline.

Anyway, people think I'm off my rocker, but it's my blessing/curse of feeling deeply that's at work, not mental illness. 

I WAS watching the 2008 film, "Hope Floats" with Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick, Jr. two Saturdays ago.  That film is a tough one to watch.  I think it's great, but there often is one humiliating event after emotional upheaval after another.  I have to admit, I was crying hard, and that green running around the nose--well, it couldn't be more apropos, because that's the exact, snotty cry I was having.

I saw shapes within the background of ghostly, strange figures, and I brought them forward.  I wanted to post this pic, but I actually feared people would think, "Geez, she's SO depressing."  OR, it could be like the old lady, who upon seeing a painting of mine (which is a little scary) in a recent art show, loudly saying, "Oh, I don't like this kind of art."  Oh my gosh, I actually cracked up on that one as I watched and heard her reaction.

You see, my sweet paintings are much more popular, but I don't always feel that way.  And I don't always want to paint that way.  What I want to do is get rid of the knot inside of me that builds with more complex emotions, and that only happens by painting and releasing those feelings.  See the basket on the girl's cheek?  I wanted to indicate that I feel the need to catch all of my emotions--not just the happy ones.  The curious, critical figures to the right?  They're the ones I feared judgment from.  The woman creation is frustrated--she just wants happy art.  The man is trying to figure out what the hell is happening.  Look, these people represent no one.  Just the meandering contemplations of my mind.  At this point in my life, the majority of time I am pretty much past the judgments; but for this one, one that is so personal, I felt overly exposed, raw...I didn't want to post it, and I actually was surprised at myself for feeling so trepidatious.

To the left...the hands and arms encircling/supporting "HOPE" that is floating.  Seems good in theory, but sometimes, you eye that concept from a distance...is it really possible?  Because I'd be lying if I didn't say at times I doubt it (Hope, that is).  I think, try to recall all I've watched and read in "The Secret," but baby, a veces (sometime), it's hard.

 

My favorite line of the entire movie comes from Harry Connick, Jr.'s character, Justin Matisse.  Sandra Bullock, upon realizing how talented he is with building houses, tells him he should try to make money from his talent rather than just going around painting walls.  He tells her (regarding the exploitation of your talent/dream) the following: 

 

"You find something you love and you twist it and torture it and try to make money at it. And at the end, you can't find a trace of what you started out loving."

 

Maybe that's what I'm trying to say, too.  I have to make these, non-pleasant things.  In the end, they mean more to me than all the pretty ones.

Day 263. The Mistake Was Three-Fold

The mistake was three-fold.

1)  She should have never gone out with this rapid talker in the first place.

2)  She should have stepped back when he was in her personal space.

3)  She shouldn't have used a new lip plumper for this date.

One step backwards or a less bee-stung-replicating potion application would have saved her from this guy's spittle landing on her bottom lip.  Not going out with him would have spared her ears, but that was another issue entirely.

 10" x 10" x 1 3/4"

This is actually based on an event that happened to me, unfortunately.  Someone was at my counter at work and they were talking on and on and suddenly, I could feel it happen.  A piece of their spit on my lower lip.  UGH!!!  I wiped it away vigorously, let me tell you.  I just brought the post-it home from work on Friday (yesterday) and was going to post it here, but now I can't find it.  If I do, I'll add it, peeps.

****************************************************************************

P.S., here's a similar scenario that took place between Jamie Foxx and Al Pacino in "Any Given Sunday."  I wouldn't have minded if the exchange had been with A.P.!  Ha!  (-;

Day 258. Marion Dougherty Upon First Seeing Al Pacino

HBO recently showed a wonderful documentary called "Casting By" which featured the importance and influence of casting directors on the film industry.  The grand dame of these crucial role players was Marion Dougherty.  It is a testament to this woman's incredible gut instincts, who in a very real way, shaped many of the greatest films ever to come out of Hollywood.  Someone who rarely got her due--no single card credit in a movie's acknowledgements of talent nor honorary Oscar for her influence by the Academy of Motion Pictures as spearheaded and petitioned by Clint Eastwood and other stars in 1991.  However, hopefully this documentary, full of wonderful film clips, interviews with our greatest film stars, and other prominent casting directors, will help rectify the lack of credit Dougherty received in the past.

At one point, Marion talks about my favorite star, Al Pacino, who she went to see off-broadway in 1968 in "The Indian Wants the Bronx."  She said, "that he was so good, that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up."  She added that that had only happened to her 3 or 4 times in her entire life.  Ah, Al Pacino.  I will champion your acting brilliance to my death!

Here's how I imagine Marion Dougherty seeing Al Pacino back in the late '60's--electrified, by his sizzling performance! (-:

Here's a little film clip of the documentary:
http://www.hbo.com/documentaries/casting-by/video/trailer.html

Here's the NY Times article on many of the casting directors in the film:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/08/04/movies/casting-directors-get-their-due-in-hbos-film-casting-by.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Day 252. A Man's Face in Charcoal

Just drawing in charcoal with an acrylic wash in the background and listening to one of the most beautiful, mysterious, powerful soundtracks from the movie, "The Insider."  (Not to mention an incredible movie with Russell Crowe and Al Pacino.)  My favorite is the last track, "Meltdown," by Lisa Gerrard and Pieter Bourke.  Gorgeous music, cool night breeze, the charcoal, rough and smooth against the grain of the paper, all senses pulling you into a floating meditation.

Lisa Gerrard and Pieter Bourke:  "Meltdown" from the soundtrack of "The Insider"