When Jeremy and David asked me to create an image that represents me as an artist for the Brush Past project, my first thought was to use a photograph I had taken back in the 1980s or 90s. The problem was that all the successful prints had long since been framed and given away as gifts—leaving only the rejects in my portfolio. So, I ended up rephotographing one of those rejected prints with my iPhone. Interestingly, the phone automatically brightened the photo, correcting what had originally been far too dark.

From there, I decided to go further: I used Photoshop to place the image of a mother and child back into the painting they were standing in front of. I’d always considered myself something of a purist and had never touched Photoshop before. But after hours of experimenting, I got the hang of it—and to my surprise, I had a great time. Using the tools, especially the paintbrush, I felt more like a painter in the spirit of Dali or Magritte than a photographer.

If you look closely at the right side of the frame, where there’s a collage of a face (LL Cool J) sticking out its tongue, you’ll notice some very rough, obvious brushstrokes. Instead of disguising them to make the image appear more photographic, I decided to leave them as they were—brushstrokes. After all, the word photography comes from the Greek for “painting with light.” That thought inspired me to sign the piece in the style of Van Gogh, in the bottom right corner.

This project reawakened something in me. As a teenager, making art felt almost like a spiritual practice. Spending hours drawing or painting—even something as simple as a bowl of fruit—taught me to truly see. Back then, as a troubled youth, art was calming, and in many ways a form of meditation. Today, as a member of a 12-Step fellowship, meditation and prayer are central in my life, and I believe deeply in the spiritual solutions to addiction. Along the way, I’ve found trusted friends, including David and Jeremy.

Being part of Brush Past has already encouraged me to dig out my old negatives, make new prints, and begin reimagining them with modern tools. I’m even considering an exhibition of these reworked images—past and present in dialogue with each other. I might call it Now and Then.

GA FILMS

SUPPORT THE ARTIST