There are lots of fellow artists I admire for the intensity they bring to their work. There are certainly more who I pay attention to because of the engaging visual structures/designs they employ or their spirited use of technique. Then, there are those who I follow because their visual and written posts seem to be honest and direct, honed in such a way as avoid being overly complicated (as I often am) by distracting and unnecessary material. That is part of why this recent post by Mark Alan Anderson (aka: azorch) caught my eye.
He works in the American Mid-West. That is an area I used to live in as well; the region of the country where I first began to be very serious about making art. So I recognize the look and the feel in many of his images. And Mr. Anderson’s work is often very, very direct; distilled down to an essence that is truly gratifying.
27 December, 2019.
I exhale, visible breath swirls around me, trailing off and around my back as I crunch across frozen grass, then trod the broken sidewalk toward the Plaza. A few other souls stroll the streets – a homeless man nods at me as I wait for a walk signal, his cardboard sign all but ignored by the cars pulling up to the stop light. I’ve not a cent on me or I’d toss something in his can as I pass; I hope he understands: money is no longer paper or coin, it’s a plastic card and invisible. I make a mental note to carry a buck or two in my pocket from now on, for just such times as this.
Crossing into the realm of the Country Club Plaza, the architecture makes an abrupt shift from the canyon of ten-story 1920’s era apartments that have walled my path…
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