On June 26, 2015 Marriage Equality became the law of the land. With hundreds of others I celebrated on the Supreme Court steps because the U.S. Supreme Court issued a landmark decision in Obergefell v. Hodges, making marriage equality legal, granting due process and equal protection to hundreds of thousands of same-sex couples.
Later that glorious day, I chatted with President Obama’s official photographer Pete Souza in front of the White House which was lit up in rainbow colors in celebration of the LGBTQ community. While we watched, the Presidential Marine Corps unit arrived. Onboard was President Obama returning from his moving speech at the memorial service for the church folks who were gunned down by a young white supremacist in South Carolina. President Obama sang "Amazing Grace" that day. Arrivals and departures…
When in high school, I would often visit the Phillips Collection in Washington DC. I felt at home in DC. We were in NOVA because my dad was stationed at Headquarters Marine Corps in Arlington, Virginia.
During World War II, artist Richard Diebenkorn also served in the Marine Corps. From 1943 until 1945, he was stationed at Marine Corps Base Quantico in Virginia. During that time, Diebenkorn often visited the Phillips Collection in Washington DC.
I went to art school at UCLA as an undergraduate, searching for the spirit of Diebenkorn who had taught there in the 1960s. I didn’t meet Diebenkorn at UCLA, but I did eventually move to San Francisco after graduate school at NYU — perhaps in an artistic search for clues left by the Bay Area Figurative movement that Diebenkorn helped engender. As his health failed, Diebenkorn painted less but continued to create etchings at Crown Point Press in San Francisco. One morning on a walk from my Market Street loft where I lived and painted in the 1990s, I spotted Richard Diebenkorn leaning up against a BART entrance watching the cable car turnaround across Market Street. He was captivated by the movement of the conductors as they spun the car around on a giant wooden turntable. I stopped, leaned up against a wall, and flipped through art writer Robert Hughes’ book “Nothing If Not Critical” until I reached his essay on Diebenkorn. I read slowly, pausing often to gaze up at Diebenkorn as he gazed at the forms moving across Powell Street. Eventually, I closed the book, walked over and thanked Richard Diebenkorn for his art and inspiration. He smiled and tears seemed to well up in his eyes, as he said “Thank you. I am glad that my work inspires you. Is your studio nearby?”
I didn’t mention the USMC connection to Diebenkorn that day in 1992, but I remembered the Evening Parade at the Marine Corps Barracks in Washington DC. I remembered the rich light of dusk on the green lawns at the barracks. The same light that was also falling on the White House in my painting. Dusk and green. Obama and Diebenkorn.
Students at Maryland schools are walking out of classes today to take their message directly to the NRA sponsored representatives in Washington DC. As the Parkland survivors have demonstrated, now is the time for action against gun violence.
“Don’t Shoot” was created in solidarity with Saturday’s #marchforourlives and in response to the horrific, senseless gun violence in America. The youth have stood up against the NRA and I applaud them. I will be at the March on Saturday and then make it back for the Santa Monica Airport Artwalk. May we join in the spirit of nonviolence and togetherness. #art #artandsocialjustice
Jedediah Grady from Montgomery Blair High School in Silver Spring, Maryland: “I understand marching isn’t automatically going to change legislation...but it’s not just about change. Next year I’ll be able to vote.” pic.twitter.com/duvbBJoPU1
I have loved this painting since I first viewed it at the National Gallery in Washington, DC as a young art student. Fragonard's rapid brushwork seems to capture the energy of this young woman's thoughts as she ventures into the realm of the mind. And for me, her rich yellow dress with the alizarin violet bow brings forth the colors of Spring.
Jean Honoré Fragonard
French, 1732 - 1806
Young Girl Reading
c. 1770
oil on canvas
overall: 81.1 x 64.8 cm (31 15/16 x 25 1/2 in.)
framed: 104.9 x 89.5 x 2.2 cm (41 5/16 x 35 1/4 x 7/8 in.)
Gregg Chadwick The Wound Dresser - Walt Whitman - Washington DC 1865 30” X 24” oil on linen 2011
"The eyes transcend the medium."
-R.B. Morris (Songwriter, Performer, Poet, Playwright)
I have created an ongoing series of paintings that explores the history of nursing for National Nurses Week and the birthday of Florence Nightingale. Three of these paintings were exhibited at the recent UCLA symposium: The Image of Nursing. The artworks were then auctioned at a gala event (Nurse: 21) to help fund scholarships for UCLA School of Nursing students.
The paintings adopt a look as viewed through the lens of time similar to the art of a period film. In my artistic practice, I create dream like images with space for the viewer to imagine their own paths to meaning. At times these openings may be found in the doorway of a subject’s eyes.
Walt Whitman's poetry is a continual source of inspiration for me. Whitman's life as a nurse, helping wounded soldiers during the Civil War, is a story that needs to be told in all mediums.
The Wound Dresser
by Walt Whitman
An old man bending I come among new faces,
Years looking backward resuming in answer to children,
Come tell us old man, as from young men and maidens that love me,
(Arous’d and angry, I’d thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless war,
But soon my fingers fail’d me, my face droop’d and I resign’d myself,
To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead;)
Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these chances,
Of unsurpass’d heroes (was one side so brave? the other was equally brave;)
Now be witness again, paint the mightiest armies of earth,
Of those armies so rapid so wondrous what saw you to tell us?
What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics,
Of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?
O maidens and young men I love and that love me,
What you ask of my days those the strangest and sudden your talking recalls,
Soldier alert I arrive after a long march cover’d with sweat and dust,
In the nick of time I come, plunge in the fight, loudly shout in the rush of successful charge,
Enter the captur’d works—yet lo, like a swift-running river they fade,
Pass and are gone they fade—I dwell not on soldiers’ perils or soldiers’ joys
(Both I remember well—many the hardships, few the joys, yet I was content).
But in silence, in dreams’ projections,
While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off the sand,
With hinged knees returning I enter the doors (while for you up there,
Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart).
Bearing the bandages, water and sponge,
Straight and swift to my wounded I go,
Where they lie on the ground after the battle brought in,
Where their priceless blood reddens the grass, the ground,
Or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof’d hospital,
To the long rows of cots up and down each side I return,
To each and all one after another I draw near, not one do I miss,
An attendant follows holding a tray, he carries a refuse pail,
Soon to be fill’d with clotted rags and blood, emptied, and fill’d again.
I onward go, I stop,
With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds,
I am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable,
One turns to me his appealing eyes—poor boy! I never knew you,
Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you.
On, on I go, (open doors of time! open hospital doors!)
The crush’d head I dress (poor crazed hand tear not the bandage away),
The neck of the cavalry-man with the bullet through and through I examine,
Hard the breathing rattles, quite glazed already the eye, yet life struggles hard
(Come sweet death! be persuaded O beautiful death!
In mercy come quickly).
From the stump of the arm, the amputated hand,
I undo the clotted lint, remove the slough, wash off the matter and blood,
Back on his pillow the soldier bends with curv’d neck and side-falling head,
His eyes are closed, his face is pale, he dares not look on the bloody stump,
And has not yet look’d on it.
I dress a wound in the side, deep, deep,
But a day or two more, for see the frame all wasted and sinking,
And the yellow-blue countenance see.
I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound,
Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so offensive,
While the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail.
I am faithful, I do not give out,
The fractur’d thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdomen,
These and more I dress with impassive hand (yet deep in my breast a fire, a burning flame).
Thus in silence in dreams’ projections,
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals,
The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
I sit by the restless all the dark night, some are so young,
Some suffer so much, I recall the experience sweet and sad,
(Many a soldier’s loving arms about this neck have cross’d and rested,
Many a soldier’s kiss dwells on these bearded lips).
Walt Whitman Accounts on aftermath of the Battle of Antietam.
Diary kept during the Civil War, 1862.
Manuscript Division, Library of Congress
In December 1862 Walt Whitman saw the name of his brother George, a Union soldier in the 51st New York Infantry, listed among the wounded from the battle of Fredericksburg. Whitman rushed from Brooklyn to the Washington D.C. area to search the hospitals and encampments for his brother. During this time Walt Whitman gave witness to the wounds of warfare by listening gently to the injured soldiers as they told their tales of battle.
Below is a rich description from Walt Whitman's Diaries that captures his experience as a nurse:
DURING those three years in hospital, camp or field, I made over six hundred visits or tours, and went, as I estimate, counting all, among from eighty thousand to a hundred thousand of the wounded and sick, as sustainer of spirit and body in some degree, in time of need. These visits varied from an hour or two, to all day or night; for with dear or critical cases I generally watch’d all night. Sometimes I took up my quarters in the hospital, and slept or watch’d there several nights in succession. Those three years I consider the greatest privilege and satisfaction, (with all their feverish excitements and physical deprivations and lamentable sights) and, of course, the most profound lesson of my life. I can say that in my ministerings I comprehended all, whoever came in my way, northern or southern, and slighted none. It arous’d and brought out and decided undream’d-of depths of emotion. It has given me my most fervent views of the true ensemble and extent of the States. While I was with wounded and sick in thousands of cases from the New England States, and from New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, and from Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and all the Western States, I was with more or less from all the States, North and South, without exception. I was with many from the border States, especially from Maryland and Virginia, and found, during those lurid years 1862–63, far more Union southerners, especially Tennesseans, than is supposed. I was with many rebel officers and men among our wounded, and gave them always what I had, and tried to cheer them the same as any. I was among the army teamsters considerably, and, indeed, always found myself drawn to them. Among the black soldiers, wounded or sick, and in the contraband camps, I also took my way whenever in their neighborhood, and did what I could for them.
"June 09, 2010 — What if we could make a difference by doing something simple? A bunch of us walked into a bookstore in downtown Washington, DC, sat down and started chanting OM. Here's what happened."
DC's First Buddhist Film Festival runs from June 17th until June 20th.
SCHEDULE All events at the Katzen Arts Center at American University unless otherwise noted on the schedule. A few events will be held across the street at the Kay Spiritual Life Center.
Location
4400 Massachusetts Ave, Washington, DC, 20016
THURSDAY - JUNE 17
6:30 PM | Opening Reception: Featuring contemporary Asian refreshments from Mie N Yu of Georgetown and an opening ceremony led by Tibetan Drupon Tinley Ningpo.
8:00 PM | Opening Film: Cherry Blossoms
FRIDAY - JUNE 18
4:30 PM | FREE SCREENING: Fire Under the Snow
7:00 PM | Program: Tara Brach and Lama Surya Das
Living Buddha - Awakening in Today's World. Lama Surya Das and Tara Brach share teachings and practices that invite the unfolding of our deepest human potential for love, understanding and freedom.
9:00 PM | Screening: Dhamma Brothers
SATURDAY - JUNE 19
10:00 AM | Meditation and Teaching: Lama Surya Das
11:30 AM | Lunch (on own)
1:00 PM | Soto Zen Priest Ryumon H.G. Baldoquin, Sensei leads a meditation and talk as an introduction to the 2 pm film.
Talk: Can We Hear the Birds Sing? An Intimate Look at Differences within U.S. Buddhism.
2:00 PM | World Premiere Screening: Colors of Compassion: The Teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh
3:00 PM | Q&A with Eloise DeLeon, the filmmaker. Ryumon H.G. Baldoquin, Sensei will then lead a discussion about the film and the issues raised in it.
4:30 PM | Screening: Tulku
6:30 PM | Screening: Burma VJ, 2010 Academy Award Nominee for Best Documentary
7:00 PM | Screening: Blessings (at the Kay Spiritual Life Center)
9:00 PM | Screening: Meditate and Destroy
9:00 PM | Screening: The Buddha (at the Kay Spiritual Life Center)
SUNDAY - JUNE 20
10:00 AM | Meditation and Teaching: Lama Tsony
11:30 AM | Picnic for Peace Take part in a meditation on peace and enjoy a meal with others who share the same vision. A vegetarian meal plus a bottle of water will be available for $7. You may also bring your own lunch.
1:00 PM | Screening: Peace is Every Step
2:00 PM | Discussion: Peace In, Peace Out
Hugh Byrne, co-founder of the Washington Buddhist Peace Fellowship, leads a panel discussion on the film and on engaged Buddhism. Panelists include Bill Aiken, associate national director of Soka Gakkai International - USA Buddhist Association, and peace activist Colman McCarthy, founder of the Center for Teaching Peace.
A commitment to the Buddhist principles of compassion, peace and equanimity poses the challenge of embodying those qualities at work, school, in family life, and through social action. Join us for a group discussion on engaged Buddhism, on how peace on the inside can lead to peace on the outside, and how meditation in action can change the world.
3:00 PM | FREE Workshop: Want to Be a Peacemaker? Start at Home
Everyone has grand theories about solving conflicts across the ocean, but it's across the living room where it gets tricky - or wild. Colman McCarthy leads this one-hour workshop on the basic steps of nonviolent conflict resolution.
3:30 PM | Double-Feature Screening: Compassion in Exile
4:30 PM | And: Dreaming Lhasa
5:30 - 7:00 PM | Tibetan Dinner: Enjoy delicious homemade Tibetan food for dinner while supporting our local Tibetan community. No ticket required. You may purchase food a la carte.
7:00 PM | Closing Program: Sharon Salzberg A leading American teacher and author concludes the festival with a meditation and talk. Special musical guest Ben Beirs. The evening will conclude with a closing ceremony of chants and prayers led by Tibetan Drupon Tinley Ningpo.
Gregg Chadwick Shumisen Posted in solidarity with BuddhaFest
Presented by Eric Forbis & Gabriel Riera Made possible by a team of volunteers Sponsored by the Kay Spiritual Life Center at American University And the Insight Meditation Community of Washington With appreciation to the International Buddhist Film Festival
We had friends from Washington DC over for a lovely dinner this week. It was great to share new work with them at my studio and talk deeply about travel and life. Safe travels from the rain to the snow!
From the New York Times: "Pedestrians walking past the Vietnam War Memorial. An administrator of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration called the blizzard "a potentially epic snowstorm" that could rival the 28 inches of snow that a January 1922 storm dropped on the capital."
"Mr. Noland’s signature motif was a radiant target made of rings of pure color strained directly on raw canvas, with that canvas contributing a wonderful sense of breathing room between each band of color. The power of the colors, their often discordant interaction and the expanding and contracting rhythms of the bands of paint and the raw canvas, could be stunningly direct and vibrant." - Roberta Smith on Kenneth Noland.
"But beautiful ideas are rarely entirely wrong, and something close to Lorentz’s idea is embodied in modern QCD. Quarks carry color charge, and generate color electric fields analogous to the ordinary electric fields around electrons. The potentially diverging energy of color electric fields close to the quark is removed by quantum mechanics, just as for ordinary electric fields around electrons. But unlike ordinary electric fields, color electric fields do not automatically fall off rapidly far from their source. Indeed, the color electric field energy generated by an isolated quark is calculated to be truly infinite, due to the energy it creates in distant fields." From Mass without Mass I: Most of Matter - Frank Wilczek
Color Field is a term used to describe the atmospheric paintings of Kenneth Noland and Morris Louis as well as properties of quarks in quantum physics. Kenneth Noland's seemingly simple forms are not firm solids but instead are constructed of shimmering veils of moving color. Conceived at the height of the Cold War when the destructive power of atomic weapons was common dinner time conversation, Kenneth Noland's work seems informed by discussion of the properties of physics. Noland's work is beautiful and questioning and seems to validate that all things are made out of the dust of stars.
"Once more we pause, once more we pray, as a nation and as a people. We read their names. We press their photos to our hearts. . . . We recall the beauty and meaning of their lives."
THE WHITE HOUSE
Office of the Press Secretary ________________________________________________________________ For Immediate Release September 11, 2009
REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT AT WREATH-LAYING CEREMONY AT THE PENTAGON MEMORIAL
The Pentagon Arlington, Virginia
9:34 A.M. EDT
THE PRESIDENT: Secretary Gates, Admiral Mullen and members of the Armed Forces, fellow Americans, family and friends of those that we lost this day -- Michelle and I are deeply humbled to be with you.
Eight Septembers have come and gone. Nearly 3,000 days have passed -- almost one for each of those taken from us. But no turning of the seasons can diminish the pain and the loss of that day. No passage of time and no dark skies can ever dull the meaning of this moment.
So on this solemn day, at this sacred hour, once more we pause. Once more we pray -- as a nation and as a people; in city streets where our two towers were turned to ashes and dust; in a quiet field where a plane fell from the sky; and here, where a single stone of this building is still blackened by the fires.
We remember with reverence the lives we lost. We read their names. We press their photos to our hearts. And on this day that marks their death, we recall the beauty and meaning of their lives; men and women and children of every color and every creed, from across our nation and from more than 100 others. They were innocent. Harming no one, they went about their daily lives. Gone in a horrible instant, they now "dwell in the House of the Lord forever."
We honor all those who gave their lives so that others might live, and all the survivors who battled burns and wounds and helped each other rebuild their lives; men and women who gave life to that most simple of rules: I am my brother's keeper; I am my sister's keeper.
We pay tribute to the service of a new generation -- young Americans raised in a time of peace and plenty who saw their nation in its hour of need and said, "I choose to serve"; "I will do my part." And once more we grieve. For you and your families, no words can ease the ache of your heart. No deeds can fill the empty places in your homes. But on this day and all that follow, you may find solace in the memory of those you loved, and know that you have the unending support of the American people.
Scripture teaches us a hard truth. The mountains may fall and the earth may give way; the flesh and the heart may fail. But after all our suffering, God and grace will "restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." So it is -- so it has been for these families. So it must be for our nation.
Let us renew our resolve against those who perpetrated this barbaric act and who plot against us still. In defense of our nation we will never waver; in pursuit of al Qaeda and its extremist allies, we will never falter.
Let us renew our commitment to all those who serve in our defense -- our courageous men and women in uniform and their families and all those who protect us here at home. Mindful that the work of protecting America is never finished, we will do everything in our power to keep America safe.
Let us renew the true spirit of that day. Not the human capacity for evil, but the human capacity for good. Not the desire to destroy, but the impulse to save, and to serve, and to build. On this first National Day of Service and Remembrance, we can summon once more that ordinary goodness of America -- to serve our communities, to strengthen our country, and to better our world.
Most of all, on a day when others sought to sap our confidence, let us renew our common purpose. Let us remember how we came together as one nation, as one people, as Americans, united not only in our grief, but in our resolve to stand with one another, to stand up for the country we all love.
This may be the greatest lesson of this day, the strongest rebuke to those who attacked us, the highest tribute to those taken from us -- that such sense of purpose need not be a fleeting moment. It can be a lasting virtue.
For through their own lives –- and through you, the loved ones that they left behind –- the men and women who lost their lives eight years ago today leave a legacy that still shines brightly in the darkness, and that calls on all of us to be strong and firm and united. That is our calling today and in all the Septembers still to come.
May God bless you and comfort you. And may God bless the United States of America. (Applause.)
END 9:40 A.M. EDT
A Moment of Silence at the White House September 11, 2009
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