Heart Triptych

My intention was to have this piece ready for Valentine’s Day this year, but that didn’t quite happen. I’m honestly not as bitter as this triptych implies; it was done sort of more tongue-in-cheek than anything else. I initially thought of shooting a canvas with a big heart on it thanks to those glorious hair metal lyrics of yester-year courtesy of Bon Jovi, “Shot through the heart, And you’re to blame. Darlin’, you give love A bad name.” Cheesy in every possible sense, I know, but it made me laugh and sometimes that’s all that counts.

No, in this case the reaction of the guy at the shooting range was priceless, too. (I really did shoot the thing using a Dirty Harry Special and .38 special ammo, thanks to my dad and the obliging folks at the Gun Store in Las Vegas. The emptied shells were used to make the “broken heart.” Not really sure why the gun shots ended up looking completely square. Must have been a really tight weave on the canvas.)

Gun Store Guy: So, who were you thinking of when you were shooting? [Looks at me proudly displaying my shot-up canvas.] You know what? Never mind. I don’t even want to know.

2008

Gifts From the Sea

St. Michael graces the top of the nicho and is, among other things, the patron saint of sailors, affording protection against peril at sea. The flowers were collected at the Santa Monica beach–offerings left for the sea perhaps, or remnants of a love tryst. But I prefer to think of them, and the seashell, as gifts from the sea. The seashell was collected at Mont St. Michel–St. Michael’s Mount–in France. Mont St. Michel is a truly unique environment with tides that sometimes leave it an island and other times not. Both Mont St. Michel and the beach at Santa Monica are very dear to my heart, one being my home and the other one of my favorite places on the planet.

Nichos are a Latino tradition of creating decorated little spaces to hold and display important keepsakes. They are often devotional in content, incorporating religious iconography and relics.

The title of this piece is also a tribute to the inspirational book by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea.

…the mind wakes, comes to life again. Not in a city sense–no–but beach-wise. It begins to drift, to play, to turn over in gentle careless rolls like those lazy waves on the beach. One never knows what chance treasures these easy unconscious rollers may toss up, on the smooth white sand of the conscious mind; what perfectly rounded stone, what rare shell from the ocean floor. Perhaps a channeled whelk, a moonshell, or even an argonaut.

But it must not be sought for…To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach–waiting for a gift from the sea.

pp 16-17

2008