Tuesday, April 21, 2009

totem: owl

doorways that are guarded by watchful deities. Not speaking their language, he tried to communicate with gestures and pointed up to the sky. They made him their chief and a symbol of transformation. These

to: santa cruz

The Tibetan monks spend hours and hours making the most perfect mandalas out of sand. As opposed to most artworks, which represent the outer world (still life, portraits, landscapes, etc), the mandala is meant to represent the inner world. The monks display their perfect creation for a short time, and then dump the sand into the river in honor of the passing of all things. Very Buddhist.

I spend a lot of time making my paintings, which I suppose don't represent the outer or inner worlds; hopefully they're more akin to the illusion of the external we all experience in the land of dreams. Nonetheless, they take a good bit of energy to make, and I find myself in a catch 22. The artist's paradox? If you make something that is interesting enough to sell, you may fall in love with it yourself...

Can someone who loves their work make a living at art? Only if they can let it go, I suppose.

I think the Tibetan monks are onto something though. I have to admit, I still struggle with attachment to my paintings. It's difficult to determine a price. It's difficult to decide which ones to even sell. I would love to paint a series of huge pieces, and have a one man show, but I hesitate, since someone might actually BUY them, and take them away.

It's silly to spend all this time painting and assembling these Buddhas (and cutting up Buddhism books to fuel my subliminal messages) and still want to hold onto, cling to these things.

Today I mailed out a few paintings for Sarah's benefit. I really wanted to donate some artwork, not only to raise money for a good cause, but to simply experience the feeling of giving something away that I would have otherwise kept.

It didn't hurt at all.

So, Sarah, Dan, Marek, keep your eyes on the mailbox this week. I sent you a package, but you gave me something as well, so thank you.

And if they don't sell, just toss them into the sea!

owl hunts the eskimo

Here are a couple page samples from my book, Owl Hunts the Eskimo.

For a more in depth preview and to purchase:

a collection of pai...
By jeremy cornish

Monday, April 20, 2009


Here is an older video from my friends in upstate New York, team sinanju. Check the painting at the 2:07 mark....

Sunday, April 19, 2009

onto something

It's funny, I've been developing this sitting buddha motif for a while. I sit down to draw, and that's all I know how to draw. I start to paint, and another sitting buddha emerges. I suppose I should embrace it as my style, not try to wrestle it into something else.

Trying to remember when this all started, it occurred to me that one of my first paintings I ever made had this idea at its core. I was sixteen years old, and saw a flyer for an art gallery opening in Syracuse, New York. The gallery was called Caffeinated Love, curated by a guy named Ty Marshall. The flyer was an open call for submissions; apparently they had walls to fill, and needed local art.

I was in high school, had never seriously painted anything on my own, but nonetheless felt the ambition to try it. I had accumulated some sketchbooks, doodling in class, trying to put lines on paper that would somehow correlate to what I felt inside. I brought my sketchbooks to the gallery and showed them to Ty Marshall. He picked out a few pieces that he thought were cool, and told me to get some paintings together.

My very first paintings were exhibited at Caffeinated Love on opening night. I was in with a mix of artists from the area. How exciting for a teenager struggling to touch the "bigger world."

Some of those Syracuse artists still inspire me.

That was 1999. Even now, I still struggle to refine my pieces. I chose to forgo art school, in favor of learning Chinese Medicine. I actually think that was the best choice possible for the integrity and content of my artwork, but honestly, I haven't been painting as much as I'd like to, as much as I really should.

Those of you that know me well have seen this painting hanging on my walls for about ten years:

I'd like to think I've come a long way since then, hopefully without losing the innocence and experimentalism of the self-taught youth..

Saturday, April 18, 2009


These three paintings, along with some that are still in progress, will be available
for purchase at the benefit for Sarah Furlano in Santa Cruz, CA next month.

It's a worthy cause.

Friday, April 10, 2009

archives 1

some images from the archives...