If straight talk is what you’re looking for, you may, or may not, find it here. Art takes many forms. In some cases, it is formless, as it is with conceptual art when the concept is as yet unrealized. Ideas are immaterial things, and concepts are sometimes abstract, along with algebraic formulas. But an abstract acrylic on canvas can have solid appeal. Touch it with your fingertips and let your vision follow its pathways until your senses are absorbed in the two-dimensional realm of optical illusion. Eye candy is delicious, but too much of it, and you run the risk of rounding an eye tooth. Straight lines can stabilize your composition with economy. Straight lines can also derail an art critic’s ability to look straight at your art. Contemporary architecture often bends the strict rules of structural integrity in an effort to add in a curved or crooked line, an arch or a floating stairway. A stairway that theoretically leads us to a horizontal heaven, and it gets us there vertically, by way of a diagonal. In my own practice of art, I’ve heard the square folks lamenting in my ear about the inability to even draw a straight line. My reply, usually non-verbal, is ‘Why would you want to?’.
“Midlife Crisis” Drawn in pastel during my midlife crisis.
Bear with me, I promise to get to the pointillism. Then again, who wants to talk about a million polychrome dots giving the impression of three-dimensionality anyway. Nobody does. Everybody does want to talk about Leonardo DaVinci though. He was an exemplary master of all dimensions, proportions and abstract scientific concepts. Leonardo and Michelangelo often behaved like oil and water when in close proximity, but being the art giants they were, they were rarely in close proximity. There wasn’t enough space in all of Europe for that.
“Inside Outside”
Then there is sculpture. As big as David or as small as Venus of Willendorf, the contours comparable. Just this morning, I loaded a ridiculously heavy bronze sculpture on a truck and offloaded it at the studio that is serving as my temporary home. I’m ready for dinner and an evening bike ride so I’ll say so long for now. I’ll add some plane talk about sculpture sometime in the not-so-distant future.
“Salvador Seahorse” Bronze bench by sculptor Mike Elwell. Me, stranded in Saint Petersburg, Florida, for the moment.
The banner photograph above is titled “Un-Natural Ice in the Swamp”, it is one of a dozen photos that are available for purchase. Most of them were taken on the ‘Trial Run Road Trip’ that I just returned from.
Now, I am in Savannah, making preparations to set forth on a very special cross-country road trip. The purpose of the trip is not adventure, though I’m certain it will be adventurous. The purpose is not leisure either, but I will definitely be sure to make time to relax, breath and meditate along the way. The true purpose of this trip is of the utmost importance, and I am therefore compelled to do everything I can to see it through to its end, back here on the east coast. From the moment I conceived of this journey, I’ve been focused on the dual purposes that the trip will fulfill. First, there is the matter of life experience to be gained on the road. In my 59 years on the planet, I’ve never traveled further west than New Orleans, LA. It hasn’t necessarily been an objective on my bucket list, but I am certain the experience will prepare me for many world travels that I expect will be necessary in the coming years, to fulfill the dream of the “Grand Providentia Projection”. The second purpose behind the trip is to gather content in the form of film footage, photographs, journal entries and creative writing expressions, which will then become valuable content for documentary and fictional films that I intend to produce.
“Apex Reptilia” Image captured in the Big Cypress National Preserve in southern Florida.
I’ve created a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for this leap of faith that I’m about to take. Of course, you can always support me financially by donating on the Donate*Contact page, here on the Grand Providentia United blog, but I would very much appreciate your visit to the “Cross-Country Expedition to Gather Film Content” fund raising page @ https://gofund.me/fd4283d0
One more thing that I wanted to mention. I will be sharing the bulk of my creative writing and journal entries during the trip, on this blog. Film content will likely be shared on my YouTube channel. I’ll post the link for YouTube in my next entry here. I’ll be active on the Scott Joseph Moore FB page as well (please send me a friend request, I’ll surely need all the friends and moral support I can get!) Thank you for reading this blog! I truly appreciate the time you’ve been spending here!
There is Infinite Intelligence at play within the systems of nature here on Earth. The same Infinite Intelligence that imagined the whole of the Universe into being. We commonly refer to this Infinite Intelligence as God, the Source, or the Creator. When we were imagined by God and given our earthly forms, the Omnipotent Creator must have been pleased beyond all our understanding, with the results. These bodies our spirits animate are incredibly complex, to the point that the greatest minds in human history have only begun to unfold the mystery of why life exists. Why us? Why here on the planet Earth? Why now? Our human bodies are forms extracted from the stuff of stars, planets and galaxies, and in their complexity, they mimic the infinite and forever-expanding Universe. These words are merely words. My intentions are merely hopes and dreams given life by the Spirit of God’s Creation. Yet, my higher purpose is something that I cannot deny no matter what becomes of my physical body. The God of my understanding created me with this higher purpose, this spiritual quest, embedded in the soft flesh of my soul, at birth. And when it is time for me to return home to the Heart of Source, I will go willingly, leaving only the memories and energies I’ve left behind through the work of my higher purpose. Some will surely remember me as a misguided person, or someone who was too sensitive, or maybe even as a man who had gone mad. Others will smile and remember me for the love I shared. But all these potential memories will never be manifested if I don’t follow my higher purpose. The foregoing exposition should explain just how important this creative journey is for me. Everything that I do, every decision I make will flow naturally from my higher purpose in life. From this moment forward, that is simply the way it IS for me.
“The Path”
I’m out on the road again, heading toward Key West and Mile Marker 0. I’m asking for your support, morally and spiritually, but also financially. There are certain things that I’ll require for this trip, and I’ll be making those specific things known over the coming days and weeks. For now, I’m merely asking you to give only what you can afford with a glad and generous heart. Every dollar will help! You can donate through this blog (on the Donate*Contact page), or you can visit my GoFundMe campaign page at – https://www.gofundme.com/f/crosscountry-expedition-to-gather-film-content
I know that it is difficult for many people to let go of money, especially when the economy is so volatile, but I promise you that the path that I intend to take to achieve my higher purpose, will bring healing to our human family and restoration to our earthly environment.
Thank you for visiting the “Grand Providentia United” blog! I’ll be journaling here more often now that I’m living on the road. Please, stop in for regular updates.
The Road Trip That Wasn’t Meant to Happen – Post #3
In the fog, all things are uncertain and precarious. Forms lose their edginess, while people gain it. In our efforts to extract meaningful images from a white-on-white canvas, we strain our eyes and whiten our knuckles if we’re sitting behind a wheel, and if we’re on foot, our imaginations can misconstrue a hellscape as safe passage and a clear pathway as brambles. I was feeling alert, alive and present on the morning of March 1, at 6:00 AM, as I drove warily through the dense fog blanketing Okeechobee County well before the sun could burn its way through. The interior of Florida is notorious for dangerous highways that slice across the state from the west coast to the east at regular intervals up and down the American mega-peninsula. I had nearly completed the turn-off from one of those highways when disaster struck. A nano-second of horn blare, screeching tires and the crashing sounds of metal and glass reconstructing each other, and then I was spinning. I became a moving part on the inside of a much larger moving part (the Honda Accord). A three-quarter turn and then a complete stop. Car still running, lights still slashing at the fog, I unbuckled and disembarked. The dazed walk I took to the other side of the vehicle gave me all the visual information I needed to conclude that my road trip was over, at least for today. After hurling a couple of profanities at the passive whiteness, I came to my senses and walked away from the crippled hulk. My next thought was for the occupant(s) of the other vehicle. With prayers and fears overflowing, I approached the driver’s door. And that was when extreme gratitude made its reappearance on the scene. One occupant, and although she wasn’t speaking, I could see that she wasn’t critically injured or unconscious. Cars are disposable, people are not.
According to fond memories, I enjoyed driving this Accord.
Two days earlier, on Monday afternoon, I left Savannah for the second time during the month of February. I had decided days before to consider the first trip a trial run; a learning experience for the real “Cross Country Expedition to Gather Film Content”. I’d also decided to scale back the distance covered. Instead of driving from Mile Marker 0 on Key West to the farthest reaches of Alaska, I opted for the farthest northwest point in the contiguous USA, which is Cape Flattery, WA. By the time I finished sorting through and selectively packing everything I could think of for the trip and recording the following video, it was already past 2:00 PM. I drove away from storage locker 88 and headed south.
The official start of the “Grand Providentia Projection” is now! Join us for “A True Story, as Yet Unfolding…”
I left the storage locker and Savannah late in the day. I couldn’t imagine hurrying toward Sanford, Florida and the American Bronze Foundry because that was 5 hours away and would be closed by the time I arrived. I decided to head south and take an easterly detour to the Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge. It’s a coastal preserve and it is where I had previously filmed a few scenes for “Return to Hope”. I was not disappointed by my intuitive side trip. It was wonderful afternoon weatherwise, and the refuge was nearly deserted. I ate dinner by the water as the sun set and then I set forth. Spirit untethered.
“Speak to Us” Live Oak, living in the Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge. Remember – all photos are available as gifts for a $20 donation to the cause. I will email a high-quality image, which you can then print to your specs.“Infrastructure Undone” The Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge was established by the U.S. Fish and Game Commission on an abandoned military airfield in McIntosh County, GA. Apparently, when we’re all done with the fighting, we sometimes go fishing. “Thistle” One of the most beautiful weeds I’ve ever seen… or heard.
By the time I hit the onramp for I-95 South it was getting dark. I drove for a couple of hours before turning into a rest stop for a dinner out-of-the-trunk and a pre-bedtime brush and splash out-of-the-sink. As uncomfortable as the passenger seat was for sleeping, I was feeling extraordinarily blessed by the freedom to make my own choices and set my own pace. In the morning, I drove off as the sun was revealed by a horizon in perpetual motion. Next stop, American Bronze Foundry in Sanford, Florida. But along the way, off of historic Route1, I followed signs to a town named Lincolnville. That is where I captured the last good photo of my home away from no-home, the cranberry Honda I choose to call Accord.
“Cutting the Accord” Take note of the signage.“American Bronze Foundry” My foundry of choice since leaving Bronzart (Sarasota) in 2008.
After a short meeting with Charlie (Charles Wambold III) to drop off the model and discuss a bare-bones version of my hopes and dreams concerning the “Grand Providentia Projection”, I drove off in the direction of Key West. Timing is everything when you are preparing to drive through Miami, so I fully expected to stop and sleep again before getting to the keys. Another sidetrack to Mullet Lake Park in Seminole County and then I would dine, and squirm through the night in the cramped bucket seat of Accord.
“Mullet Lake Park”
I didn’t see any mullets, in the water or on people’s heads, but I did enjoy a nice lunch by the water, while being entertained by an airboat pilot showing off his fancy fan skills.
I’ve never been skilled at predicting the future, even when the future is as close as the following morning, but if I had that skillset, I’m sure I would have lingered longer at the rest stop waiting for the fog to lift before resuming the drive south. In a single moment, all things can change. I love change, though, because it enhances our flexibility and expands our ability to accept the way things are in the now.
Return tomorrow for a report on where I’m at and where I’m planning to go from here. Thank you for reading this Grand Providentia United journal entry! Please feel free to stay awhile, scroll down, scroll back up, and read until you yawn. Good night, good people!
While cooking eggs this morning, I was blindsided by a sudden and glaring self-awareness. A passing thought brought with it an unavoidable wake-up call. It was a thought that screamed ‘You are living your life like a fugitive! Stop this immediately!’. My shaking hand nearly dropped the spatula fully loaded with hash browns. I wanted to protest, but I knew I was toast. In truth, I knew that I was beyond toast. I was a burned piece of stale bread in the trash. There was no defense to offer. The case had closed as soon as it was opened. In a vision that can’t be unseen, its clarity eternally sharp, I stared with horror at the current state of my existence. I’ve been absolutely living like a fugitive, and this behavior absolutely needs to stop!
“What are you lookin’ at, Eggs!”
Let the banners be raised, and all in favor of stopping unhealthy behavior, say EYE! And how do I know that this fugitive mentality is unhealthy? Because it limits the totality of the man that I refer to as me. It curtails my inborn ability to present to the world the best of who I am and what I have to offer. If I choose to remain hidden, it is unlikely that I will be found, even by my own sense of purpose. And why, you might ask, have I been living like a fugitive? You may as well pose this question to the eggs I was cooking, because I can’t see reason, although I have been looking. You recommend I seek counsel, to evaluate my self-appraisal. Well, I say, it’s as plain as day that I’ve been hiding away, and the only solution is to adopt a resolution to put aside my pride and walk outside.
“This Terra is Not So Firma”
Now walking. Now learning. Now growing. With a farm-fresh perspective, hard won through the many misguided adventures of an explorer without eyesight, I’ve arrived at the understanding that I’ve done nothing wrong. At least not wrong enough to continue living this life like a fugitive.
Thank you, readers, for returning again and again to read this True Story as it unfolds…
grandprovidentiaunited.blog 