I was stopped at a red light while on my way to grandpas about 7 years ago (when i was about 16), and i looked to my right noticing on the edge of a golf course, by the road, there was a hill of grass different then all the others. it was tall, abnormally tall,
disproportionate to how small it was at the base. A man, maybe a golfer, was walking near it or maybe on it, and suddenly (here's where imagination begins) the hill started rising higher and higher out of the ground, bubbling up and off its
original surface, like the stuff in a lava lamp, and into the air. the grass, though out of its expected nature, just cooperated with these unnatural, law defying movements in the soil. the man seemed at peace atop that rising
bubble of grass and even rested there as though he were in for a long and high ride through the sky to the place he desired far far away, where, when reached, the bubble would lightly settle again into the ground and mix with its
surroundings as a drop of water would after falling into a lake...
The light turned green again i noticed (after a while), and as i proceeded to drive i looked out over the golf course, spacious and hilly, and in one beautiful moment every hill began to rise-transporting men to the place they desired. this event remained with me and i could not get it out of my mind for the life of me! while at grandpas i asked him if i could borrow his camera, i not owning one, so i could take pictures of the hills at sunset. he consented, i
took the pictures, and a few days later he developed them for me. I sketched out the idea how i saw it in my mind and set out to draw the actual
piece. i became discouraged because my depiction of this strange world did not seem to be developing accurately. I felt defeated and left it behind other-more prized
pieces of mine on the
easel in my
high school art room.
winter break came and left, and the weeks passed. while sorting through my art i noticed
the long lost
piece. within the paper whereon it was drawn, and behind months of collected dust,
the world it would be seemed to beg me to create it. I felt it, so i created it. it was successful, and a
favorite among many friends of mine.
My
interpretation of this
piece arises directly from its manner of creation-or the process by which it came into being. The very fact that this
piece came alive reminds me that there are an infinite amount of possible histories in our existence. i could have never went to grandpas that day. or the light could have been green disallowing a persisted
observance, or even the noticing of the abnormally tall hill. or i could have driven by those hills flat minded and uninspired, never seeing the world of The Grass Bubbles. Or i could have never ventured to draw it, just too busy maybe. Or i could have never decided to look back at the drawing and listen to it telling me to finish. Heck i could have died and that world would have left with me. But no, no all of these facts remained, and so did i, therefore the way was paved for me to create this world i so dreamed, or even to choose not to. But, as my history goes, i chose to-and now it exists, now it lives. with every possible history waiting to happen, that would (because they could) take us into every possible direction, why then would we not choose the one we want-the world WE see? Many of them (possible histories) are laid at our feet, many just happen because history has to happen one way or the other, but to those we have control over let us choose wisely, let us choose how we really want to, for that is how this world, and all of us in it came into being.
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Betrayal was the first word that came to mind when i looked at this peice and was trying to understand it. it really came out of nowhere, without rough draft, key drawing, or even a vision of what i wanted as i drew it (this was one of the few that arose in such a manner). while looking at it now i think im realizing what it really means: Self betrayal, the ultimate betrayal of all. look it over carefullty and try to understand what i mean and see what i saw. 
hey here it is. i made this one for a good friend of mine. there you go Becca Joy!
one of my first color drawings. i think i was 15. when i was a scout i had a friend take a picture of me behind a fire. i was wearing a yellow shirt and the fire in fromt of me was covering my legs and therefore the my only illumination from the fire appearing in the picture was my arms, my yellow shirt and my ghost-story telling style lit face. after seeing these accidental photographic arrangements i thought that i looked a lot like what ive always wanted to see- fire ghosts. yes that is ghosts made of fire, dancing in the flames!
This idea came from somwhere around nowhere, like many ideas do. i cant recollect any inspiration for it-just a little corner of my mind that hasnt been interperated yet. i pondersd how to make the shaddows have some sort of unity and partenership in terms of movement in the composition (where they-the shaddows-are casted and how they direct your eye) when, out of nowhere, i felt that the sun and the moon should be the same light source for this little land, transforming from one to the other only by the bubble sepparating the night and day. the kids are naked, i don't know why.
We know reality. We know the answer, right? To them each hill is a wave adding to the violent rocking of an ever churning sea (of grass). It appears that all is needed is for them to step out and walk off the boat. "if it were me i would just do the obvious and walk away from the percieved impending shipwreck-their problem isnt even real!" But the fact is their problem is real-it is very real-to them, and it could only be understood by those who remain in this boat "irrationality" as we may call it. "Step off and walk! Step off and walk!" But perhaps such an attempt would only spawn another problem for them: drowning. I dont know, maybe its just a reminder that every persons perception on life, and their reality within it, is different and, therefore, different solutions must be granted. Maybe they should just be left alone to sail on to safety.
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one day (when i was about 18 or so) Alli Ginos asked me the all too oft asked question, "Spencer, I've known you for a while..." and strangely i knew what was coming... "when are you gonna draw ME a picture?" i thought for a moment and made the point I'd like to make to you all, "well, can you make cookies?"
I was stopped at a red light while on my way to grandpas about 7 years ago (when i was about 16), and i looked to my right noticing on the edge of a golf course, by the road, there was a hill of grass different then all the others. it was tall, abnormally tall, disproportionate to how small it was at the base. A man, maybe a golfer, was walking near it or maybe on it, and suddenly (here's where imagination begins) the hill started rising higher and higher out of the ground, bubbling up and off its original surface, like the stuff in a lava lamp, and into the air. the grass, though out of its expected nature, just cooperated with these unnatural, law defying movements in the soil. the man seemed at peace atop that rising bubble of grass and even rested there as though he were in for a long and high ride through the sky to the place he desired far far away, where, when reached, the bubble would lightly settle again into the ground and mix with its surroundings as a drop of water would after falling into a lake...
i drew this years ago for Katie, a friend of mine. Her name means "Pure." it was a symbolic rendering of my Thoughts of Katie (or "Pure").
