Daniel Peacock Essay
#20 Daniel Peacock (Response Painting)
#19 Dan Lutzick (Visiting Piece)
I wanted to derail the evolutionary flow of the continuum of this project, and let the beautiful, sensitive art cycle meander on its way suddenly disoriented and lost without a map. So I took something innocent, yet abstract, and tried to knock it off kilter. Give it a left turn, a hard right punch, a sophomoric sexing. I needed to create something that a child would understand and instantly recognize. Hence nudity. I saw something in the previous work and thought it was an accident, so I decided to go with that. So out came this womanly sensual monster. But this femalian-type she-beast had to strive for something that was doomed to guarantee struggle without any assurance of attracting what it really yearned for. That’s a tough haul. And I like chutzpa when it’s appropriate. Show your best assets, I say, give it all you’ve got woman. Let’s see how the market responds. I was portraying something with truth, and that is the unfolding process of becoming alive, with its fears and dreamed-for passionate triumphs. You go girl. There are not guarantees, but endless possibilities waiting, and thankfully a bevy of like-minded souls swimming about with similar desires, so life itself is assured. The lore of attraction.
Artistically, I wanted to be considered an uninvited guest at a private party. Maybe the next person would have to deal with my piece with a bit of giggles and remorse. I almost wanted a regret to be had for inviting me in this artistic journey. But the music is for dancing, it can be very fun. It’s oddly impossible to be indifferent to it once the process begins. The painting comes out personal in the end after all. And another wonderful attachment is made. It becomes my favorite painting for the moment, like a new lover that will become a fleeting memorable romance once she leaves the next day – departing the studio with a feeling of having loved still in the room. A veritable one-night stand, perfectly-timed. Painting is like that.
So respect was part of the journey – as I was straddled, saddled with having to perform and to become bridled by truth. I eventually calmed down.
It does activate a kind of play that is only arrived at in painting – a process that usually summons duress and confusion. Making art, ah. It’s best described as a mild exorcism. You’d never know of the internal winds of doubt and discovery, the whispering maelstrom within. But it leaves a mark.