Charlie Spear

Charlie Spear painted Falling Down Man while participating in a project to revitalize a poor part of Indianapolis that contains a large number of homeless people.

The buildings of Indianapolis can be seen in the background of Charlie’s painting. In the foreground slouches a marionette of some sort who has fallen and cannot get up.

The marionette clearly represents the homeless.

What an image. I can’t stop scrutinizing the marionette. It has, it seems to me, two faces: one real, one lurking recessed in the knees. The pathos of the homeless almost seeps from it.

I couldn’t be happier with Charlie’s painting. I think it is brilliant. Eloquent and brilliant.

Of course, it is a bit unfortunate that the USPS abused Falling Down Man.

No, that’s not quite right: the USPS ABUSED Falling Down Man.

One really has to see the painting in person to appreciate that fact.

I have had two wonderful conversations with Charlie, one before and one after I got his painting. He of course was a bit upset at what the USPS had done. Here is a statement that he wrote shortly after our last phone conversation.


Hello Paul,

I wanted to write my impressions on seeing and hearing the news of Falling Down Man...as "an abuse of the abused." Poverty is not a declaration of a person’s worth. The sight of the frame and knowing that the work may be destroyed as a whole piece had a ring to it with a spiritual resonance. The crisis this country is in today financially has put a lot of people in Falling Down Man's place. My wife works for WorkOne an arm of Work Force Development of Indiana. She deals with everyday people who worked for 15-20-30 yrs. and find themselves out of a job and out of unemployment. They are stranded in a sense in this financial purgatory or limbo...I know she has probably saved a few people from cashing out. She is a sensitive caring person. Falling Down Man is now more about the possibility of homelessness for anyone.

The sick feeling my wife and I felt when we saw the damage was real. The piece should have made it. This is the first time I have ever seen this kind of treatment from the USPS. Fed Ex and UPS have shipped damaged packages in the past but have gotten better in recent years.

I can't help but think there is something more going on here. Vincent's paintings were about the poor and the destitute. Failing as a preacher he became a painter following the leading of his heart. We look at his art and have a sense of possibilities. Unfortunately after shooting himself he died poor and basically homeless...I still would want the USPS to make this right...but more might be afoot than we see physically.

Thanks,
Charlie

It has been a true pleasure getting to know Charlie. Among other things, he has helped me to see just what a peculiar fortune the Universe has bestowed upon me.

But why, one might naturally want to know, do I think the Universe bestowed a fortune on me?

The answer to that question is a bit involved and will have to wait for a future post. I will, however, say that it involves Plato and Duchamp.

Oh yes. One last thing: if anyone wants to trade for Charlie Spear’s brilliant and now perhaps historic painting, let me know.

You've Got To Be Kidding Me!!!!!

That’s what I felt like yelling at the USPS worker when he told me: Well I didn’t do it.

I had been practically gnawing my finger off in excitement at getting Charlie Spear’s painting Falling Down Man.

So when I looked upon the damage that the USPS had wreaked upon Charlie’s painting, I felt like starting a revolution on the spot.

But of course I didn’t. No. After filling out a form and talking with the postal worker, who of course was quite right in pointing out that he wasn’t the one who had warped Charlie’s brilliant painting, I said ‘Thank you’ and walked out of the post office in a daze.

I have included two different pics of Falling Down Man.

The first pic clearly shows the extent to which the frame has been warped.

It is not obvious from the pic, but the frame is incredibly solid. So I can’t imagine how it got warped like that. Someone must have put a piano on it.

The second pic is of the painting as it now appears from the front.

Charlie is an incredible artist, and Falling Down Man is, in my opinion, an incredible painting. I had planned on talking about Falling Down Man and the rest of Charlie’s work. And indeed, I will in a future blog entry. Here are links to two websites where Charlie displays his work.

http://www.myartspace.com/CharlieSpear/

http://charlie-spear.artistwebsites.com/

At the moment, however, I have to turn from Charlie’s work and simply report that the Universe taught me a lesson today. Yes, it did.

One might naturally have thought that I would be downhearted, livid perhaps, at what happened to Charlie’s painting. And I was just briefly. Well not livid exactly but definitely beyond flustered.

Had the USPS just torpedoed the Van Gogh Project? Had I returned to square one? Would anyone trade for a damaged painting? These are the questions that swirled around my head for a few hours.

But as I sat in my chair staring at Falling Down Man, after having talked to Charlie on the phone about what had happened, I inhaled the air around me and suddenly felt incredibly tranquil. My despair quietly receded and I couldn't help but smile.

Believe it or not, I realized that the Universe had just given me an incredible gift.

That may sound crazy. I know. And I'll try to explain myself in a future post.

For now I can only tip my hat to art and the universe.

Yes indeed. Art. It truly is a matter of perspective.

And yes indeed. The Universe. It really does work in mysterious ways.

Excitement, Sadness, Yay!

I have arranged for another trade.

The artist has a studio in Indiana; and his art is without a doubt remarkable.

So yes, I am once again incredibly excited.

And once again I am sad.

I saw Dora Maar, hopefully not for the absolute last time, but no doubt for the last time in a long while.

Just as I have done with all the paintings, I parted ways with Jeanette’s painting at the UPS store. This time I had more tact – I didn’t blurt out anything as the agent took her away. But I sighed as I left the store. I loved that painting.

Excited and sad. Perhaps I have been teaching too much Sartre lately, but in the last month or so I have been particularly aware of latent contradictions in my psyche. If Sartre is right, there is no escape from such contradictions. One must simply live them out.

But I must admit – I don’t really like Sartre all that much. And I must also admit -- I’d rather not live with contradictions. Indeed, I’d much rather be excited than sad. So for at least now, I am going to act as if Sartre is wrong and simply go with excitement.

So once again: Yay!

Guns

I did it.

I went to a shooting range and shot guns: three shotguns, a 22, a Glock, a 45 and a 44 Mangum.

I went with my colleague Lance and a student. Lance is a lifelong gun enthusiast and belongs to a nearby shooting club. We shot skeet with the shotguns and targets with the pistols.

God damn, it was fun! Indeed, it was so fun that I am thinking about buying a gun and joining Lance’s shooting club.

I haven’t yet gone to a Mixed Martial Arts studio. But I have located one nearby. Tonight, or maybe tomorrow night, I will go check it out.

I must admit that the prospect of shooting guns, as long as no one is shooting back, strikes me as much more appealing than the prospect of placing myself in front of someone who is trying to punch me. But fuck it. I am willing to sacrifice. If the Universe wants me to get hit in the face in order to get a Van Gogh, so be it.

I am not sure why the Universe wants me to learn how to shoot and fight in order to get a Van Gogh. But somehow it all makes sense to me. The Universe, I have found, works in mysterious, though at times vaguely scrutable, ways.

But if I am going to do what the Universe wants, I figure it should do what I want. I have already told it that I want someone to trade for Dora Maar. But perhaps I need to give it a little reminder.

Universe, damn it:

I want someone to trade me a beautiful (and expensive) painting for Jeanette Jones’ Dora Maar.
I want someone to trade me a beautiful (and expensive) painting for Jeanette Jones’ Dora Maar.
I want someone to trade me a beautiful (and expensive) painting for Jeanette Jones’Dora Maar.

If anyone wants to trade for Jeanette Jones’ exquisite Dora Maar, let me know.

Savagery

All art begins as a supererogatory act!

That is what I shall now call Savage’s First Thesis in honor of Cort Savage, a professor of art here. The exclamation point, I think, may be essential to the thesis, though I’m not sure about that.

I had a fascinating exchange with Cort after contacting the art department about the Van Gogh Project. Although the exchange wasn’t one of art, it was one of ideas; and I’ll take that any day.

Of course, one might wonder, as did I, what Cort means by the phrase ‘supererogatory act’. And here is what Cort said he means:

1. An act that exceeds and raises the bar for what is considered the social ‘good’.
2. No one would fault you if you did not engage in the act.

So according to Cort, the creation of art produces more social good than typical acts; and no one could be faulted for not creating art.

In addition to the first, Cort articulated Savage’s Second Thesis:

Art is a manifestation of a philosophy.

Cort didn't say exactly what he meant by 'philosophy', but he did articulate a third thesis and provided some examples that clarify his meaning.

Savage’s Third Thesis:

The moment a philosophy becomes a commodity, it transforms into sophistry.

Cort illustrated his third thesis with two examples:

The latter example [pushing someone out of the way of an oncoming car and letting yourself be hit instead] is interesting because I think it is a supererogatory act, but if you then demanded payment from the person in exchange for saving his/her life the act ceases to be supererogatory.

Remember Todd Beamer and his ‘lets roll’ line from his 911 airplane phone call to his wife...supererogatory act : ) Then his wife tries to get the line trademarked to profit from his death...transformation to sophistry : (

Because I’m in a thesis-naming mood, I shall from hereon call the conjunction of Cort’s three theses: Savagery.

I am not sure what motivates Cort’s acceptance of Savagery. But my guess is that it stems from the feeling that art elevates us above the savages. In the words of Doctor Matt, a local art collector, art transcends. To turn that transcendence into an object that is bought and sold, however, is to push that original act into the cold, ugly and utterly untranscendent thing called the market. It is to push one’s art once again ever closer to the savagery that art seeks to escape.

Savagery, I think, is a fascinating philosophy of art and has a number of interesting implications that I hope to explore at some point.

But one very salient fact is worth pointing out right now: Van Gogh’s art has become utterly commodified.

So if Cort is right, to get a Van Gogh, I’ll need to dine with some savages.

And no doubt once I get a Van Gogh, I’ll have plenty of dinners with savages as well.

So perhaps part of my new strategy should involve inculcating savage tendencies in myself -- training in mixed martial arts, firing guns, etc.

Now that I think about it, I like those ideas very much.

In the next few weeks, therefore, I'll try to find a class in mixed martial arts. And I'll try to find a way to fire a gun.

I haven't up to this point in my life been inclined to those types of activities. But I'm willing to try. And who knows, it could be fun!

And maybe then, once I've become savage enough, the Universe will see fit to bring me closer to a Van Gogh.

Yes, the more I think about it, the more it seems to me that the Universe has given me a sign:

It doesn't want me to just own a Van Gogh. No, what he Universe really wants is for me to become a gun-toting, ass kicking owner of a Van Gogh!

Frustration

I have received a number of offers but haven’t yet seen any painting that I really want to trade Dora Maar for. So I am feeling frustrated.

Although I have asked the Universe for another trade, I still can’t help but return to Regina’s contention that I need a strategy. Perhaps I do. So far I have been posting ads on Craiglist. But perhaps I need something more.

But what?

Here are the ideas I have come up with so far.

Advertising. This one seems like a no brainer. Advertising is the key to everything, isn’t it? And I must admit I rather like the idea of putting an ad in the Wall Street Journal.

Approach the artists on campus. We have several accomplished artists that teach here. As far as I know, only one of them knows anything about the Van Gogh Project. Perhaps one of them would be interested in trading for Dora Maar.

Reintroduce the lottery concept. I still can’t completely lay to rest the idea of a lottery for a Van Gogh. Now that I want to ascend the OJ scale, maybe a lottery would be the perfect catalyst.

That’s it. Those are all the ideas I have had. And now that I think about it, they don’t seem all that bad.

So today I will e-mail the art department here and look into ads for the Wall Street Journal.

And if neither of those generates any interest, I will seriously consider the lottery.

And if I get really desperate, perhaps I will make a sacrifice to the universe. I hear it likes ears.

Van Gogh at 24

What was Van Gogh like? How did he produce art like his?

Besides the obvious though uninformative answer – genius – it really is hard to say.

But maybe the answers to those two questions lay in Van Gogh’s mind. Maybe what he was like and his genius can be traced to some aspect of his psychology.

I only say ‘maybe’, because I am somewhat suspicious of the psychological in general. But skepticism about the psychological aside, the mind does seem to be an obvious place to look for answers.

Here is a picture of Van Gogh’s psychology at 24.

Van Gogh at 24 (From a letter to Theo)

The history of the Eighty Years' War is magnificent! Whoever should make such a good fight in his life, would do well. In truth, life is a battle, it is necessary to defend and protect ourselves, and we must plan and calculate with a cheerful and brave spirit in order to make progress.

What cannot be cured must be endured, and one must use the weapons within one's reach and the means at one's disposal to make the most of one's powers and gain advantage.

If we could make ourselves a crown of the thorns of life, wearing it before men and so that God may see us wearing it, we should do well.


At 24, Van Gogh liked war, saw the world as a Machiavellian struggle, and wanted to wear before God and man a crown of the thorns of life.

Hmmm….