confluence amidst conflict | pastel, charcoal, paper | 11in x 14in
“It is because of the conflict in our own personal lives–and our willingness to face them and convert them into constructive dialogue–that we grow towards consciousness.” Robert Johnson, Inner Work
I welcome your thoughts and comments. Please email me: stephen@stephensantore.com
d49dsx4 | India Ink and Chalk on Archival Paper | 18in x 24in
wildly staring into
fears
that scream from mouths
of demons
red orange flames
claiming the air
raging
to devour
my only soul
yet i peer into their
greedy gaze
extinguishing
their very
existence
…
forever
…
or so i thought
OH6BR2 | 24″ x 30″ | Oil on Canvas
I have been watching a fascinating series called the “Wonders of Life” presented by Professor Brian Cox, OBE, FRS. He is an English physicist, and Advanced Fellow of particle physics in the School of Physics and Astronomy at the University of Manchester.
Brian presents clearly that all life on earth is connected through our genetic code, stating, “Our DNA contains the finger print of almost 4 billion years of evolution.” And further sharing that “It tells us we are connected not only to every plant and animal alive today, but to every single thing that has ever lived.”
There is such beauty and insight in this theory/science.
d8uy92 | Dry Leads on Rag Paper | 12in x 9in
I have so much respect for those that set up there easels and look out into the world and draw and paint what they see. There is such a richness to be noticed in this world, not matter where one gazes. What of the notion of setting up your easel within yourself? The richness of all that resides in our conscious minds and even more that resides in our unconscious, and perhaps collective, mind. Never ending universes to be discovered.
LK9YK5 | 36″ x 48″ | Oil on Canvas
When the Dalai Lama was asked what most surprised him about humanity, he answered: “Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.
-From page 154 of “Huston Smith: Wisdomkeeper”, by Dana Sawyer. It is an extremely well written biography.
Ponto North 2822 | Archival Print | 32in x 48in
walking to her edge i gaze out upon the divine mystery of all. i listen with joy to this ocean’s words, as she persuades thousands of oval stones to tap lightly upon each other. Such a symphony of percussion as her fingers rush forth and retreat away into sweeping, gorgeous curves, instinctively returning to their depths. Tiny droplets of her liquid, gently carried by the wind, land sweetly on my cold face. Eyes closed, my head directly into the cool breath of the sky, i touch my tongue to the tip of my finger, tasting her salts. And i remember that each of us is but a grain of sand. One grain touching others. An endless beach with the power to accept, caress, nurture, protect, love, all life within.
Seat of a Chair | Archival Print | 32in x 48in
It is not difficult to find elegance and beauty in the smallest of sometimes unnoticed things. For instance, things like the seat of a chair catching the light from a window on a Sunday, as it rains outside.
So very precious to feel.
Water’s Edge at Ponto Beach | Archival Print | 34in x 48in
Watching the light touch upon the water’s edge as the tide lowers brings to mind the essence of life itself, with all of its power and all of its unknowns.
d72lkp | Dry Leads on Rag Paper | 12 in x 9 in
Touching the surface of a piece paper to feel the tooth and the texture and to know that somehow, someway I can add material to its surface, and then take away that material, continually exercising the process, adding and subtracting, until it feels as if enough has been done, is quite a special experience. There is an energy and an awareness that arises from within that can be extraordinary. Please share any thoughts you may have with me.
di237 | Digital Imaging | Archival Print | 28 in x 48 in
There is something so uncommon and extraordinary about the images that can be found in the pixels that comprise digital images. Whether the images come from a camera or from something created in a digital program like Adobe Photoshop®, or everything in between and any other way, the images can be stirring, if just in the very nature of the process of investigating what they are and what they can be. Cropping, adding, blurring, re-coloring, de-coloring, ripping apart and piecing back together, just for starters. No limitations. No expectations. And somewhere during the process something happens. I don’t really have the words for what the image is. Perhaps it is nothing. Perhaps it is something. Whatever it is, it touches a part of me that smiles with the discovery. I don’t know how to categorize these images, so I rest now upon “digital imagings”. Please let me know what you think of them. Thank you in advance for doing so.