Ray

Memories can be thick and savory, like syrup on pancakes.
Song lyrics such as “F-R-E-S-H, fresh, fresh, fresh, that’s fresh...” or “It’s a family affair...”; images like the golden summer sun beaming on brick apartments in the city; glistening broken glass scattered around the neighborhood basketball court; or the sharp, stern character of a loved one who guided you in life—these are all precious memories that shape us and can be triggered at any time. Many of them become the fodder for my work.

A short while ago, I began a new painting of a person who generously drove me to work on many occasions at a time when I had no car. He was someone I could confide in within a “dog-eat-dog” corporate environment. I can still picture him pulling up near the house, honking his horn, his dreadlocked hair tucked under a beret-like hat. He loved gardening and was an easygoing Jamaican man, steeped in the character of the island, embodying both the goodness and frailties of any man. Sadly, he is no longer with us.

After taking a month-long break from painting—having just completed a triptych I have yet to share—I felt a little rusty. But after two weeks of work, I’ve reached a point where things are coming together. I’m still deciding on the final color scheme and how best to leave my signature on the piece, but I anticipate finishing it within the month. Once completed, I’ll post images of the painting on my site, though without giving away the full image before I’m ready to share it in its entirety.