Loneliness and Isolation and Uncertainty

I used to lie in bed at night and imagine the face of one of my friends as a painting by Modigliani. Then I would see it as a painting by Hopper. Then Picasso in one or two of his periods. Then I would choose another friend and faces became bodies and then bodies in rooms. I got good at it.

And now, working on a project that was one thing and is becoming something else, I realize that the paintings I imagined to be influencing me are not real images but images I must have made up. I have gone searching for painting by Hopper and Balthus, but the images are not what I was thinking of exactly. Only the mood. And there is a new fellow, Christian Vincent, a contemporary painter whose work has a pull on me, too.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to aggrandize my work by association. At least I'm saying I'm not. It is only the sense of loneliness and isolation and uncertainty that I hope to capture. When I look at those paintings, I realize that all the work is weird, all the figures stiff and stilted. I like the awkwardness.

I haven't tried lying in my bed and imagining people as paintings for a long while now. I will begin again tonight. I will try to expand my repertoire of painters, too. I'm broader minded than I used to be and of a more catholic taste. It is just what happens if you keep paying attention. Already, I am imagining icons.