For someone who has moved into his third house in less than three years—not to mention perhaps the 30th one overall in 55 years—leaving one’s office after a couple of years is minor. Let me give this post some bogus context by saying that this is the last one I will be writing from this particular office in Warrenville in Illinois. I am fairly certain that not too many of my very few readers would know about Illinois. Hence they are unlikely to know and care about Warrenville and even less whether I stay or leave from whichever office. Or for that matter, even write.
For me though this office has been rather productive because I wrote two books during the past two years, ghost-wrote a novel and wrote, shot, directed and edited one feature length documentary which is now making its way through international channels to find some homes soon. All that is apart from the kind of grunt work that one has to do to stay afloat over treacherous waters of penury. All in all, one might say not bad. Not bad at all.
While all of this is rather satisfying, I am particularly thrilled that it was during these two years in my own office that I found some rhythm as a digital painter. During the course of my stay I must have painted over 150 artworks, many of which I have shamelessly promoted here without finding a single buyer. However, I did manage to sell some half a dozen scarves made using my paintings. In that sense, I outsold in my lifetime what Vincent van Gogh did in his. (Humor, people, humor.)
The following three paintings, done in rapid succession yesterday and today, illustrate my point about finding a specific rhythm with digital painting. They also articulate a changing mood from the first to the third. Not that there was any connection between the three works and my leaving this office but I might as well establish a bogus one. Remember, I started with saying I intend to give this post a bogus context. Titled Godhuli (Dusk-Twilight) from the first one to third you can hopefully see a somewhat impersonal work becoming a little more personal and evocative. That is indicative of how I am coming to terms with leaving this office. (Hahahaha, that is hilarious because the paintings and the office have zero connection.)
So that’s all there is to it. I had an office until today. Now I do not. The bird on the solid iron chain between the two worn-out wooden beams may choose to fly or just sit there through the night waiting for dawn to break on the opposite side.