"Crying out for the Dream". I was working on this painting for the last few months. I listen to the radio, often NPR. Hearing all the various news, mainly of the election cycle and the various police shootings and police being shot at. There might be a great deal of tension that is in the air or may be this is just my impression of hearing all of this. I am not saying for sure that this is my impressions, reactions, or idea about what is going on in the US right now. It may but also may not. Is there real anger in and around the US, yes. Will this be a quiet year, no. Will the election campaign between Clinton and Trump be anything but nasty, dirty, brutal, full of accusations and insults? I would say yes. Is this painting about that, or anything else going on in the country and the world? Yes, but don't quote me on that. Okay, that being said, lets take a closer look into this work. What the hell is going on!? Looking at it now after completing it there are several things that spring to my mind. The figures are walking heads, much like most of modern humans. We are generally about our ego, our careers, our lifestyle choices, our this and our that. This is not to say aspiring is bad only that there is a preoccupation with material possessions. What many are finding is that either that getting things and money leads sometimes to unhappiness or that many are finding that the cost of living is a position that is not available to more and more people. Expectations, desires that are disappearing, the idea of progress seems to melt under out feet. The platform seems like both the melting ice sheets of Greenland and the Antarctic and the basic element of the universe, hydrogen. The hydrogen atom is one electron and one proton. All elements derive from this one element.The things we assume are basic and natural to us appear to be dissolving under out feet. The heads have pyramids on their heads. Dunce caps? Perhaps, but it is more than that. We live by narratives, mythos. We see a world in which the structure is seen as unchanging and/or the natural way things are. We all carry this on us in our lives. Our beliefs, our narratives, are abstract concepts about understanding the world and our place in it. This is both a way of finding an understandable pattern to our existence and our place in such a pattern. This is both a way giving meaning to our lives. It also is a burden that prevents one from changing or challenging their convictions. The denial of death, crying out for the dream that things will always be what they are, but death is always at work. The windmill skulls, the constant movement of everything, building up and breaking down. The eyes going from looking down a path into darkness and then up into the sky. Wisdom of understanding that all things change, all things die, and what life if about is flux, flow, change? Or the hopeful expectation that there is an afterlife or that some miracle of the divine or technology will save us? Or both? The egg comforted on its bed of golden hay soon to plummet into an abyss, and in the center of it all only our mind, brain, body. The figures all walk in step with each other, the unchanging habits of people through time. All heat turns to cold, all systems break down, things must face entropy.