Gods or Bullets

We choose.

This painting’s story starts at the bottom left, with crosshatches, animals, figures, and dots, symbols and marks dating back to the Paleolithic era. The voluptuous female figure is inspired by ancient goddess/fertility icons produced during the matriarchal eras of human history. In her heart she holds the grail cup, a mythic symbol of human compassion and grace. She merges with a fierce God-like tiger, their opposing energies (nature/human; male/female; creator/destroyer) embracing and supporting each other.  Moving upward we find ourselves in a landscape of animals, plants, and waterfalls, with a shining (accented with golden metallic paint) mystical figure holding a sun-like beacon in one hand while gesturing benevolently to the Earth, waters, animals, moon, and heavens with the other. This panel represents connection to nature and higher states of awareness. But already there are signs (black crows, snake, darkening sky) that this utopia is coming to an end. 

Moving left to right, top to bottom, we swiftly travel from a world of ecstatic natural energy and light to a shadow realm inhabited by missiles, guns, industry, pollution, fear, faceless incarcerated people, tanks, and grinding machines. In this bleak landscape darkness reigns and life is cheap. 

The bottom of the right panel is unfinished: spilled paint and pencil marks on unprimed canvas. The future is still unwritten. 

This painting, which was created over two weeks as the the George Floyd protests were unfolding, is a consideration of human priorities. Do we celebrate industry over humanity? Racial and social injustice over mutual prosperity? War over peace? Bullets over Gods?

Gods and Bullets 72″ H x 52″ W ~ oil and assemblage triptych painting. Signed on verso. 

Gods and Bullets

Gods of earth and food
Gods of steel and blood
God built the Rainbow
To help us bridge the flood.
Gods of nature,
Gods of blight-
We sit in darkness
But pray for light.

Tear gas presidents,
Poems painted on roadways;
Gunshots in the alleys,
Angels in the words we say.
A baby’s first laugh,
A world in disarray:
Every minute is night, 
Every minute is day.

Threatened by all things,
Threatened by Cain-
We break the covenant
Again and again.
Gods of nature, 
Gods of blight.
Gods made from darkness,
Gods made from light.

Our oldest stories tell of
Black and White,
Blindness and Sight,
Might against Right.
We must face the forest to find the light,
All of our fears despite,
To seize the day 
and end this night.

~s.stone 2020

Available in my studio, contact me for details.

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