55 minutes of beautiful African music. Listen, find yourself!
55 minutes of beautiful African music. Listen, find yourself!
THE REVELATION PAINTING
La Pittura di Rivelazione
Overview: 12 feet tall x 40 feet long utilizing thirty 48″ X 48″ canvases. Twenty canvases are gallery wrapped, highest quality to withstand the test of time, six are custom birch wood, with holes drilled of various sizes and fully functioning doors on the backs. Four canvases are custom birch wood in order to carry the weight of over $140,000.00 of crushed precious and semi precious gemstones. The pearl gates are made from crushed Akoya, Japanese saltwater pearls! The painting incorporates thousands and thousands of dollars worth of highest quality Golden and Liquitex acrylic paints, 24K gold flake and leaf, and complete fiber optics set ups which illuminate God in a way never seen before in fine art. Customized sections of the painting give it the ability to move and bleed (Truth-The Hemorrhage of Pigs!), then returning to its natural state.
The painting initially appears as a religious painting alone, the final book of the bible, Revelation with seven magnificent scenes and sub-scenes labeled in various languages, yet underlying there is another painting of politics and corruption. Within the painting is the ancient and ongoing battle of good v.s evil, mysteries and messages embedded within the artwork which are not readily visible. The making of this painting has spanned nearly 16 years and is estimated to be released 2014-2015. Upon the painting’s release, a stunning revelation will be revealed which ties this painting to current world events which was not discovered until 09/2009. Two other unknown mysteries of Revelation were also uncovered while creating this painting and have been missed throughout history! Please see the blogs for more detailed information about the making of this historical work of art created by one artist, and the photos as they are updated.
Upon the release of The Revelation Painting seven journals will also be released within 2015-2016 which give an unusual first hand look inside the mind of an artist while visualizing and detailing each scene revealing the trials and tribulations of aspects required to make the painting. The Journal of Measures (and Numbers) details not only the transition of moving an idea to giant size, it also covers odd events regarding numbers associated with the painting. The Journal of Sketches reveals artwork from the conceptual stages and beyond. The stones used in the painting are discussed in a journal named: The Stones, and Truth-The Hemorrhage of Pigs! talks about the section of the painting which bleeds.
Within The Journal of Acknowledgement participants are given an opportunity to express information to the world! World-wide exposure to the arts in many regions dealing personally to obtain supplies for this historical painting. My endeavor is to help bring knowledge around the globe of not only the beauty of arts all over the world but to help people understand that profound inspiration exist in a world not so far from their own! My first stop…Africa! With global participation in The Revelation Painting for the past twelve years there has been silent participation from all over the globe to complete this work of fine art; what I consider to be a “global effort”. The ultimate endeavor is to bring a sense of unity through visual peace by bringing to light the beauty of natural resources, therefore the people of that region or area. Mysteries of Revelation which have pulled at the threads of many genius human beings are revealed within the painting as well.
Seven journals will accompany this massive work of art. Nothing like this has ever been done in art or the history of mankind! My Creative Influences & Favorite Artists, The Philosophy of the Revelation Painting: Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental problems concerning matters such as existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language distinguished from other ways of addressing fundamental questions (such as mysticism, myth, or the arts) by its critical, generally systematic approach and its reliance on rational argument. The word “Philosophy” comes from the Greek φιλοσοφία [philosophia], which literally means “love of wisdom”.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PhilosophyAs noted in the definition of philosophy: A simple and profound question to ask yourself is simply, why am I here? The Revelation Painting helps to bring to light an answer to that question by subjecting the viewer to a combination of factors that overlap in the world we live in. In order to see why we are here, we have to see the world around us. There is a significant difference in “seeing” and understanding, it is a global effect. We can look at every single detail but miss the entire forest because of the trees. To understand, for example how the forest survives, you must understand the delicate balance of life but you cannot think that you understand if you do not see the “big” picture, otherwise it is no less than walking around blind with 20/20 vision!
How the problems in the philosophy are addressed throughout The Revelation Painting is approached through certainly what would be termed an unconventional route. Artist throughout history have used their talent to help their audience see life through a perspective very different from what they are accustom. People are attracted to the different view of the world gazing through the artist’s eyes mainly because it is an escape from the world they are used to or literally trapped within. The world of imagination can take anyone as far as they would like to go whether it is by their own hand, or that of an artist. Often times an artist’ endeavor is to connect with the viewer.
Difficulty arises through expression whether it be an idea, placing a shadow correctly within a work of art, or most often bringing an idea to reality. Historically the renowned artists are those who were able to achieve a connection with people through their art and master the difficulties associated, hence the “Masters”. The Revelation Painting’s effort to master difficulties of projecting ideas to vision and within the painting is a core network projecting the delicate balance of life in an unconventional manner. The blogs, journals and information associated with the painting was designed to help the viewer understand the complexity of the unseen network within the forest of this massive painting.
Tired but happy I have a job and able to pay the bills. The last 6 months of 2009 was bad for nursing work believe it or not which put me behind. It is a wake up call for me to realize that even the people who know how to save a life are not really guaranteed work. Too many times in the past year I have been close to homeless. I figure I am earning the last part of this struggle through life in a hard way. There are two reasons for it. My education was most certainly through the School of Hard Knocks. I have always been that way for me; resistant and rebellious.
The second reason was brought to light by my old father when he told me one time: “Never forget your raisens,” Which translated means “never forget where you came from no matter where you go in life or what you do.” I have forgotten that before but not for a long time and often I have said truthfully that I lived better, had more control of my life and finances, and felt happier working at McDonald’s. I knew when I worked, what would happen, what I would do, when I got off and when I got paid. Often times I thought about going back to a job where I had time for the people.
It seems hard to believe for the average bear but when you make more money, your life changes and you need more money and when you get paid daily, you really get screwed up because there is always some money in your pocket unless there is no work. So the money you spend the day before frivolously, just might be the money you need to pay the light bill. And for the back to the people part of it, being a nurse is like herding cattle. You do not feed the sick and weary souls or your own soul, you feed the machine.
So why don’t I take a full-time job after 17 years? Well it all started 17 years ago when I went on a quest to find a home, a job where I would feel happy and make friends…a life. Seventeen years later and so many cities I lost count (maybe 200 or more), I still haven’t found a home. I work hard, I do what is right, I am a team player and will break my back to do what need to be done but I cannot tolerate the bullshit of it all, blatant disrespect or one thriving off the others, like the machine.
When I went to nursing school, just as it is now, you are taught that it is a professional and respectful career. If only one nurse or instructor had told me the truth of the matter, I may have been a doctor (although it is not much better than nursing), but most likely a lawyer. My life would have been totally different. Two years after I became a nurse I looked into medical school. I had a plan to work in the mountains of West Virginia and provide healthcare to the poor by house calls and be paid by whatever they could afford.
Before I became a nurse, I was shy, smiled all the time and my face turned red when I talked to people. Now my face turns red in anger, I never smile, everything tears me up that deals with abuse of the system, the country, the people of the world. It is my fault but I was a first generation college student, excited to find out I wasn’t as “stupid” as I thought I was and realized I had a chance. It was one of the times I jumped from the frying pan into the fire without making an informed decision or evaluating my options. It was all on me to figure it out.
Maybe the anger comes with growing up, but somehow I don’t believe that. Maybe it is post traumatic stress disorder…I have seen a lot of real life things that belonged on Hellraiser or some other horror flick. I work 13-15 hours (including to/from work), take an hour or so to go to sleep and chronically am deprived of sleep. I know I don’t eat right, sometimes not at all in a 12.5 hour shift, just drinking Mountain Dew (a lot of nurses drink Mountain Dew, it is funny how they made “Code Red”…similar name to Code Blue)…Well, seven days until the new job starts.
It is Groundhog Day today and the sun isn’t up yet. I love winter but not when my life is unstable. The cold and dreariness makes it difficult to step out of the house. I haven’t worked in several days and fear of the future is wearing thin. Often times I wonder if my life is so difficult because I seem to live it against the grain. My motivation is sinking…not depression just tired-tired of thinking and thinking. My mind is on an endless rollercoaster ride that never stops. Sometimes when it is bad like this, I seek religion. Today I will buy a medallion of St. Michael, the Archangel to protect me from negativity, to protect The Revelation Painting, and to help me shake these bad feelings of being conquered. Believe it or not, sometimes I think about tearing up the canvases of the painting and leaving it all behind. It must be the gypsy in me that has forever kept me moving. It is true that a rolling stone gathers no moss. At least if I were working, taking care of people, I would feel better. I miss the people.
The Pale Horse according to my theory is the representative of the Mongoloid race which according to the origins of races began in Asia and crossed to the Americas by a giant ice bridge a long time ago. When I researched the four primary races I was shocked to learn that we in America, who I thought we Caucasoid were actually Mongoloid.
It makes sense that a hair dresser once told me that I had a double crown on the nap of my neck like people of Asian decent. I carried that mystery with me for a long, long time wondering about it and my ancestors. The most I really know about myself only dates back to my great, great grandparents and before their existence in America is unknown.
I used the website www.ancestry.com and it took my name back to the Scottish people but it was a different name than now. There is a photo of a Native American woman my father has that he stated was his grandmother. She was a strong, big woman with long black hair. My father remembered little about her in the way of facts but remembered she was “an Indian”.
My father said she had breathing problems and washed her hair with salt because the water would make her sick (whether it was the water or not is unknown). He said she would rub salt into her hair and make it shiny black. He also remembered that she smoked cigars. I wondered how common it was for women to smoke cigars back in the day.
I had an aunt that had the same big-boned, powerful presence with long, black hair who died relatively young with Lupus. Often time we inherit the diseases of our ancestors and it may have been Lupus that the great grandmother had which can affect the lungs since it is an autoimmune disorder where the body attacks it’s own connective tissues.
Long ago, when I was in my early twenties, I remember walking past a mirror and for a split second I saw my grandfather’s face in my face, just for a split second. I realized that we shed pieces of ourselves through our seeds until we have nothing left to shed; we give ourselves away and never really die, we are within our children, their children, and so on.
When I was young, I imagined God created people on something like an assembly line and had to draw people very fast. Sometimes he would forget an arm or leg, or other things that made people “whole” and that was why some people were deformed or died at birth. It is funny how our minds work when we are young as we seek answers.
As long as I can remember, I always sought answers to the things I did not understand. I like to think I have an analytical mind. We I stepped out of the protection of the small neighborhood I was raised in and into the big city I saw homeless people, the big money skyscrapers of corporate America and there seemed such a mismatch of power. I began to write poetry:
Fear sets in amongst the strong
Confidence corrupts the timid
The world is turned upside down, yet only for a moment
Then sweet, sweet silence…
Laughter bellows from the city walls
Dark alleyways summon you by name
The secrets of a million minds whisper softly down cobblestone streets
Answers are not allowed here!
Sunlight cannot reach the homeless
Towering masses of brick and mortar shadow their existence
Their “mere existence”
Such angry hatred dances on wicked fingertips down cobblestone streets
And the tear stretches down
Like fire, it burns from the soul
Eyes upturned, begging for answers
Secrets of a million minds, although as loud as thunder
Whisper too silently to hear the answer
For, answers are not allowed here!