Oil “Coalies in October”

Oil on canvas, 24” x 18” /60 cm x 45 cm

A procession of loaded coal cars along a river, truss bridge in background, greenery in distance. Sky and water faintly blue

This took an hour. I am painting this to inspire my students in art class.

I threw some high-dollar yellow with a dollop of white into the midfield, gave the water and sky the blue shift,

I basically went at the cinders with a large angled flat brush that has seen better days. I created the texture by hitting the taut canvas like it was a snare drum, rolls of greys and whites, fast and light.

I painted it in this place, in one of these jewel boxes of desolation. Someone recently told me that people call it Fayettenam. I just heard a head-on collision on a nearby road. It’s 5:50 am and dry as bones outside. The train runs through this place. It heats the interiors of structures where we ferret away our forgotten letters and memorabilia. Where we age and forget ourselves. The train runs through memories that linger in the tracks that sing down the line. Cellos a mile long go hrum-hrum. Cellos a mile long draw down the G sharps into adagio squeaks and pops, larghetto diesel priming.

subsequent lonerism

I am troubled because I have ADHD. It is a disability, sometimes. People don’t understand you. You understand them. People are afraid of what they do not understand, so they shy away. So, I paint the images of solid train cars in the environment that persist in memory, in vision, in time. I paint the ancient bridge. The coalies roll towards furnaces in Pittsburgh.