On December 3, 1991, my brother, Joseph died of AIDS, age 36. Over these past weeks I have tried to honor his life both in memory but also with my hands in the studio. Joseph was a professional dancer performing with the esteemed Alvin Ailey Dance Company in New York. He was a natural and instinctual dancer exuding intense focus and power while performing. But his gifts when far beyond dance - he designed and crafted jewelry, he built his own ceramic potter’s wheel and threw pots, and from scraps of leather collected as he walked from his apartment on St. Mark’s Street to Ailey he eventually sewed a large leather quilt!
Personally, Joseph was my first teacher in learning how to be still in nature and to look deeply. He had a strong sense of this world and the next and the gap in between. He modeled being still, and on our many walks together he taught me how to be comfortable with quiet and solitude, while keenly observing our surroundings.
Abundance is the word that aptly describes how Joseph walked this earth. “Abundance and a generosity bordering on extravagant seemed to be the signatures of his personal style.” (C. Bourgeault). A couple of days before he died in Mt. Zion, NY, while in the hospital, he ordered an enormous flower arrangement to be sent to the nursing staff that was caring for him.
The three works on paper I completed this year on December 3rd and post here, all started with photos of Joey dancing. The first one remained rather minimal, allowing the image to remain, however, versions 2 + 3 obliterate the image with paint layers, they feel more a response to Joseph’s energy and presence.
Finally, I close with some words by Rumi that capture the abundant, selfless and generous spirit that is Joseph:
Love is reckless; not reason.
Reason seeks a profit.
Love comes on strong, consuming herself, unabashed.
Yet, in the midst of suffering,
Love proceeds like a millstone,
hard surfaced and straightforward.
Having died to self-interest,
she risks everything and asks for nothing.
Love gambles away every gift God bestows. - Rumi (excerpt from “Love is Reckless”)