Hollow Stuffed Men

I reflected on what is happening with men these days. Men are so alone. Most are so lonely despite lives filled with lots of meaningful and virtuous expressions. And we long to be less alone than usual. 

T. S. Elliot write:

       … We are the hollow men, the stuffed men leaning together

       There are no eyes in the valley of dying stars

       In this broken jaw of lost kingdoms

       In this last of meeting places 

       We grope together and avoid speech …

In my paintings I examine men in parallel. It’s well known, men have too many challenges these days. Most men don’t talk very well. Words don’t come easily for us. Despite all this, we can be close and near. The men in my life are not far. Next to each other when we do things. And when we struggle to action, we are good at putting things off. Men procrastinate best when we don’t have deadlines.  

My fantasy for postmodern men is that we can gather to listen intently and share wisdom that samba in our bones. As men we can be angry but not violent, sexual without being coercive and wild, and vital and passionate in our love. We can be willing, courageous, and committed to our values and in relationships. These paintings are my reflections of men in parallel, perceived as hollow, but stuffed with intensity for connections, maleness, and care.