I have always been interested in the way in which Jasper Johns takes an image, often a famous or noteworthy photograph or painting, and abstracts it. His ink and encaustic drawings, Farley Breaks Down, led me to Larry Burrows’ print which appeared in Life Magazine in 1965 (The Mission Over, Farley Gives Way). Johns treatment of the photo is interesting, and possesses its own emotion when or if you get to it, while Burrows photo is just so gosh damn sad and powerful. Johns’ drawings make me think before I get to the emotions; Burrows’ photo creates an ache in my chest that I immediately want to relieve by crying. This life is hell for so many people. What need for a hell beyond this world? People go through hell right here every day. The man in Burrows’ photo was a helicopter gunner in the Vietnam War. He had just come back from a mission gone terribly wrong—a crew member had been killed. The photo is in my head. I decided to do a study, which I am including below. I rarely do studies—I mean I rarely execute a study. But my eye is constantly studying. My mind does not turn off. Even while sleeping. This morning I was awakened by a dream. I was dreaming of Sheila’s brother, my brother-in-law, Peter. It was a tender dream. Peter had an aggressive case of Parkinson’s. In the dream, we clasp hands like brothers. Our hands remained clasped. He was young and vibrant, in his 50s, with a thin beard. We were sitting together. Then we embraced and he lightly kissed my neck, just below my ear, the same way I kiss my son when I get a chance to see him.
