. . . subLiminality . . .

I painted this piece in 2005 for a larger series of works titled "The Alien Role Revisited"...there's a small photo of this painting sitting here on our desk that keeps speaking to me for some reason; more accurately, it kind of annoys me. One of those paintings that 'just happened'...one of those that I'm embarrassed to tell folks how long it took to actually, physically 'paint.' Then again, the decision itself to 'let it be' is part of the process of this artform (at least in my opinion) and cannot be accomplished sometimes after months of maticulous labor.

What annoys me about it is the story behind it. It's a story of brutality and sadness told here to generations in a rather cold and detached fashion. It's a story that reminds me, in all its brutality, that humans haven't necessarily progessed much further than we like to think. It's a story of choosing again and again what I call the 'Alien role.' The violence I perpetrate is more 'civilized.' The incisions are far cleaner, but the harm no less painful. War is reported in statistics and numbers, and I can sit safely at home listening to soundbytes and watching brief clips. I keep choosing this Alien role, not all the time mind you, but it happens nonetheless.

That's what's so annoying about this painting.