My Parents Had A Baby And It Looks Like You

On getting ready to re-enter the United States; November solo show at Atlantic Works Gallery

Motoring in yesterday on the ferry from Deer Island to Campobello Island (our third ferry trip of the day) Sue commented how much more developed and kept Campobello looked upon approaching from the water than the little harbors we were in and out of for the past weeks.

People here have more money to keep up their property. Manicured was the word I’d use to describe what you see on the approach. You can look, but don’t touch.

Have you noticed how social media compresses time and space? In contrast, travel expands them. The crusty fishing villages we left just yesterday are way over the horizon now, existing in jpegs and memory, and we’re clearly back in the land of luxury. Elderly tourist central. While we steamed out of Grand Manon Terminal just yesterday, if you ask me today I’d say it feels more like a week ago. Everything is tamer here; more cultivated.

I do find it remarkable that I had to go to little rural islands dotted with fishing communities to find all of that art. Affordable art, too.

Did I mention that?

I would be embarrassed to tell you what I spent on those two paintings I bought. Embarrassingly little. I felt like I was robbing the artist.

All those artists. And not a single one with an artistic statement. How can that be possible? I’ll tell you how: Because you don’t need a fucking artistic statement to make art. You do need one to participate in the commerce of art, though.

No artistic statements. No fancy, expensive art degrees (proof that they really are artists!) No expensive materials. No incessant chatter about residencies, pricing, success. The air was rarified.

(Something every artist/musician/author suspects/knows: The majority of art dealers/record labels/publishers couldn’t care less about your artistic growth. Or let’s say it’s not the first thing they care about. The first thing is money. Always the money. For the artist, money should be about number five on the list of priorities.)

There are some dealers who do care and invest time in their artists, though. There’s one in P’town whose artists, the ones I interviewed for the P’town Independent at least, told me MC cares about them as artists. MC is an artist himself, though. He’s one of us.

MC was also one of the best sources when writing about art in P’town. I would say he’s usually the smartest one in the room.

But I’m digressing.

I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last couple of weeks. When I left the United States almost a month ago, the show I’m putting up in November at Atlantic Works Gallery was muddled in my mind. Now I can see it.

johngreinerferris/november2024/mixedmedia

Six pieces that I’ve been working on starting in January (that I’ll probably continue to work on once I get home) are my responses to issues in the United States. Plus some smaller pieces and the preparatory sketches I used for the larger pieces.

I began the series with economic disparity. Then the great social divide occurring in the United States. After that came our species’ ability to destroy itself (the title of this post.) School shootings came next.

The final two are my attempt to help individuals weather the political storm that won’t have reached its peak on election day when the show goes up.

Personal ways to weather political storms are defense mechanisms Americans have developed lately, and I touch on that with the two final pieces.

And there’s a large piece that thematically ties them all together. At least I hope it does.

Sketches of Americans for johngrreinerferris/november2024/multimedia

We watched the debate the other night on my phone flat on our backs in a two-person tent late into a chilly, misty night since we’re on Atlantic Time. How anyone can still be undecided at this point is beyond me. It’s beyond any notion I have of what characterizes common sense.

FDR Memorial Bridge

On my walk last night I could see the FDR Memorial Bridge linking Canada and the United States. It’s right there, but we’re not ready to cross over yet. We’re going to stay a while and play tourist. See FDR and Eleanor’s haunts, appropriate that the current administration and Democratic candidate want to keep their ideas and accomplishments alive. We’re going to hike around. Get a little bit more mud on our boots.

When we finally do summon the courage and the strength to return, we plan to wander down Route 1 in Maine. Just take our time. There’s no hurry.