Showing posts with label ctrasmuss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ctrasmuss. Show all posts

Monday, August 27, 2018

Painting Reality in The 21st Century

Richmond Island En Plein Air study in oil(alkyd) by C.T. Rasmuss


     In the case you have or haven't read my last post, this is number 3 on the year as far as paying for my $55 park pass, which is now $15 on the year($40 to go).  Now this isn't the lone reason I'm painting the scene of Richmond Island here, but it's good motivation for me to get out this summer and paint a good number of outdoor paintings, or studies what ever you prefer; doesn't matter much to me since all art in reality is just a study of the Grand Scheme of things!

     Speaking of reality, yes I'm aware of the reality that the art world considers Plein air painting as long dead(kitch), along with painting sailboats, the ocean, and perhaps anything recognizable or even moral much of the time; but I don't paint for the art-world and I certainly outgrew my need to be accepted or popular long ago.  I believe in the true world made by the greatest creator of all-GOD!!!   Although much of the time The World seems to have gone Mad, and the art-world with it:

    I'm gonna do the best damn! job I can of embracing every bit of reality in which I can latch onto, it's my perception that with the hopes that I'll be able to communicate this same hope others, those who are in the same boat, wanting to survive these crashing waves of modern day civil destruction.

preliminary sketch of Richmond Island, Graphite on paper C.t. Rasmuss

     Don't let the despair of what the world seems to want to make you see, but search tirelessly with the rest of us that search for GOD, trust me he speaks to us all, every moment of existence, you just have to find a way to listen and communicate, as do I.  So this may be an outdated method of painting to the art world, but I don't paint for them I paint for myself, my soul and a way to share with others what I've been up to:) 


sketch of Portland Headlight in cartouche, Graphite on paper, C.t. Rasmuss


Monday, August 6, 2018

2 Acrylic Still Lifes by CT Rasmuss

              22x24" acrylic by ctrasmuss

16x20" acrylic by ctrasmuss

The above two works of art, that I've recently finished are in their final states as far as I'm concerned; I'm quite satisfied with their outcomes...especially the backgrounds I created around them!
  In this short blog, I've also included some of the notes and previous stages of these paintings below:












Monday, February 24, 2014

Some Men: A Poem by C.T.Rasmuss.

Some Men   C.T. Rasmuss, mixed media/juxtaposed-grayscale (2013).



Some Men

Taming doubt and mastering grand
illusions of the impossible,
do these factor in Mr. Keats;
into your theorem of consolation?
Beauty is truth, truth beauty”!
Some men need to know more.

Exploring an inexhaustible system of caverns
masked with lavish odors of tasty Mint Julip:
streams of relevant hopes cascade along,
emptying waste and spoils into an epicenter
of shipwrecked faith and smashed dreams.
Some men unfortunately drift out to sea.

Chronicles of captain's bliss, read softly aloud
upon vast lands of turmoil and vengeance;
all the while, its impressionable audience being
captured by sidewinder speeches, hissed by
forked tongues wrapped in corrupted silhouette.
Some men find themselves stranded ashore.

In the wake of God's infinite brilliance
it is beckoned to us all that:
Men shalt not live by bread alone...”
Perhaps because in a muffled den of thieves,
virtuous men would drop like flies!
Signal...Some men pray on their knees.

Endearing temptations to reach something greater:
souls of isolation steer clear into magnanimous wake.
Relentless subordination to fierce elements and tide,
the artist, records his findings with a naive brush;
attained destination is relevant, given with each stroke.
Some men go on, continue bailing out their boats.

Basking in a hypnotic Amber light, graciously cast
by smoldering embers, crackling, becoming internalized:
ashes continue piling into the outstretched urn of time.
Flickering from petrified dreams of youth, mortality gains
acceptance from its morality, with fully glazed eyes;
Some men wade in a pool of eternity.