Abstract Paintings by David Michael Jackson


In the early part of the last century, abstract art was a radical departure from the art that had gone before it. The artists who were at the forefront of this strikingly modern movement all had something in common. They had a passion to communicate something fundamental through art that couldn’t be achieved using traditional realism.

The abstract paintings that I have been familiar with all seek to gain new insight into the realm of art. These artists include:

Josef Albers,Alexander Calder, Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky, Franz Kline, Willem de Kooning, Lee Krasner, Joan Miro, Piet Mondria, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jackson Pollock, Mark Rothko, and Frank Stella.

It is hard to ignore their contributions to our search for the perfect abstract. I have sought to search for something even though it is always unclear what that is. An Abstract artist does not start with a “something” to paint and yet I have obviously found real things that my art resembles. In naming abstract paintings, the artist looks for realism in the names. Finding a name other than “Abstract Blue Number 26” is hard to do. The artist had no intention of realistic painting but a name has to be found.
It is said The most celebrated and famous abstract artists are masters of their form. Early pioneers, such as Kandinsky and Delaunay experimented with color, shapes and symbols. Later in the century, in the creative explosion that was abstract expressionism, artists such as Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock demonstrated new ways to make art and, with their huge canvases, gave us new ways to experience it. Pollack’s “Drip Paintings” became the foundation of our thinking of both modern art and modern abstract paintings. The large canvas became the norm. Museums are large places and large canvasses are appropriate. A museum was as far away from my thoughts as they were to Van Gogh or other earlier artist whose work is small, like my abstract paintings.

My concern with the abstract painting of the past is the lack of form. The paintings tend to cover the canvas uniformly and the thought of a “background” is a thought that I like. Form is an important part of my abstract paintings. Most of my abstractions have both a shape and a background. I sometimes seek to create paintings in which the viewer can participate. By participate I mean the viewer can see real things like making shapes out of clouds. If I create an abstract paintings which you think looks like a dog and I think looks like a rabbit, then I have succeeded.

PARTY, DO YOU WANT TO – Poem by Lyn Lifshin

PARTY, DO YOU WANT TO - Poem by Lyn Lifshin

PARTY, DO YOU WANT TO - Poem by Lyn Lifshin

PARTY, DO YOU WANT TO

 

weeks after I’m sure

he’ll only hold me

in class. “Party, but

keep it secret.” It

doesn’t matter that

he’s married, must

have been guzzling

vodka when he asked.

It didn’t matter that

his wife would be

back in town the next

night or that one of

the young Asian girls

was/is so in love, is

like a Geisha to him.

Doesn’t matter, just

that he asked made

me feel alive. Doesn’t

matter that it does

not matter

 

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ARE YOU UP FOR PARTYING – Poem by Lyn Lifshin

party

party

ARE YOU UP FOR PARTYING?

 

But keep it a secret.  He’s

in his bad boy mask. I can’t

resist that persona as if

the others weren’t magnets

too. But it’s part of the

black dirty hair, too long

jeans. What is it about this

kind of man that women

crawl to them? I can see my

self on my knees, even in

fragile fishnet tights. “Party”

I don’t think it’s a birthday

party with candles and

I doubt he wants to take me

out to ready my poems

tho some time ago he did tell

me he wanted to talk about

about them. To party suggests

drugs or sex a little rock

and rolling.  The idea doesn’t

sound bad. Then, like in a

dream, plans change

and it’s over

 

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LIKE FALLING MADLY IN LUST WHEN JUST HEARING A DEATH SENTENCE – Poem by Lyn Lifshin

LIKE FALLING MADLY IN LUST WHEN JUST HEARING A DEATH SENTENCE - Poem by Lyn Lifshin

LIKE FALLING MADLY IN LUST WHEN JUST HEARING A DEATH SENTENCE - Poem by Lyn Lifshin

LIKE FALLING MADLY IN LUST WHEN JUST HEARING A DEATH SENTENCE

 

it’s that way with

him. I think of

mothers starting

to fade as their

daughters blossom

where time is

churned and

telescoped and

someone in 2009

can fall in love

with a man born

in 1620. In

another life, I’d

be your muse

as you’ve been

mine but then,

without this

wild longing

for what

isn’t, what

can’t be, no

poems

would happen

 

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IT’S THE ELBOW, THE HAND – Poem by Lyn Lifshin

IT’S THE ELBOW, THE HAND - Poem by Lyn Lifshin

IT’S THE ELBOW, THE HAND

 

MacDowell Colony, a spring

with the lilacs, divorce in the

just blooming rose air. “It’s

the elbow” a composer said,

that’s how you tell age. And

the hands.” Others supposed

I was in my twenties. A dating

service low on young women

asked if I’d let them say I was

22 they would pay me. But

this man said “Lyn, your

hands, I can tell you’re not

19.” Horrified, I spit out,

“scars, poison ivy, I covered

them with lotion, I burned

them.” He just shook his head.

Now I wear long sleeves,

fish net to show a little skin

but not enough so you’d

notice my elbows, my arms. I

buy shrug after shrug, sheer

dance jerseys, am glad I am

usually cold, that the ballroom

studio is freezing. Tonight in

a sweltering ballet class, all the

young girls in skimpy camisoles,

their arms taut and lovely 19,

20, maybe 22, I check  their

elbows, how the skin near the

armpits on some already show

where they will sag. The lucky

ones have Michelle Obama’s

but even some of the babies are

feeling earth’s mouths on them.

You have to look carefully

to notice. Their elbows still pretty

smooth, unwrinkled, mine

camouflaged in torn leotards

with the crotch cut out for a

top I hope looks a little like

skin. I checkout what positions

flatter, which disclose what

isn’t so nice, try on my 16th

birthday party sleeveless

rose dress. It’s held up

well, considering but I don’t

think of, can’t imagine

what’s ahead

 

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