HOME | DD

Description
Contemplating Greed and Excess (a self portrait)

Oil on canvas over board.

18” x 32”

In this scene I was in California, always a strange land to be in.

I had spent the night at the home of a wealthy woman; I was feeling down, and looking for something to do that didn't involve getting up and going down stairs. The house was huge, but poorly built, from the most costly materials, and built on a street of houses that, though they were all different, all looked much the same as it did. The red oak banisters didn't quite join the stairs right, and the thick polished stone countertops had gaps and unfinished edges. The yard was maintained by a crew of Mexican men who came every week to tend the landscaping of about half a dozen of the new houses on the newly paved street. There was nothing growing in the yard you could eat, not even a little fruit tree. From the window I could see over the fence. The people on the other side lived in old vans and busses on a dirt road, in the shade of some old pine trees. They had chickens in pens, and a large beautiful garden. There was all sorts of produce, some ripe, some planted for the following season, and some plots had the chickens cleaning up the last seasons growth. It was clear that the people in the old busses had little money, but it was also clear that they were happier and better fed than the people on the rich folks side of the fence. Looking at all this made me no more inclined to go down to breakfast. It is not that the rich woman is not a good person; she is friendly, generous, and wants to be helpful. I genuinely like her, but somehow fate had missed the target just a bit and landed me on the wrong side of that fence. The bus dwellers were clearly my people.

There was a mirror in the room and I always have a sketchbook when I travel so I made this sketch so that I would not forget the situation. Later that day I went for a long walk on the beach, and when I got home I got some chickens for my garden.

Description
Contemplating Greed and Excess (a self portrait)

Oil on canvas over board.

18” x 32”

In this scene I was in California, always a strange land to be in.

I had spent the night at the home of a wealthy woman; I was feeling down, and looking for something to do that didn't involve getting up and going down stairs. The house was huge, but poorly built, from the most costly materials, and built on a street of houses that, though they were all different, all looked much the same as it did. The red oak banisters didn't quite join the stairs right, and the thick polished stone countertops had gaps and unfinished edges. The yard was maintained by a crew of Mexican men who came every week to tend the landscaping of about half a dozen of the new houses on the newly paved street. There was nothing growing in the yard you could eat, not even a little fruit tree. From the window I could see over the fence. The people on the other side lived in old vans and busses on a dirt road, in the shade of some old pine trees. They had chickens in pens, and a large beautiful garden. There was all sorts of produce, some ripe, some planted for the following season, and some plots had the chickens cleaning up the last seasons growth. It was clear that the people in the old busses had little money, but it was also clear that they were happier and better fed than the people on the rich folks side of the fence. Looking at all this made me no more inclined to go down to breakfast. It is not that the rich woman is not a good person; she is friendly, generous, and wants to be helpful. I genuinely like her, but somehow fate had missed the target just a bit and landed me on the wrong side of that fence. The bus dwellers were clearly my people.

There was a mirror in the room and I always have a sketchbook when I travel so I made this sketch so that I would not forget the situation. Later that day I went for a long walk on the beach, and when I got home I got some chickens for my garden.