Flowers, yellow wall#4556. Love to all. Painting by Andrey Bogoslowsky

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Flowers, yellow wall#4556. Love to all.

Andrey Bogoslowsky

United States


Size: 24 W x 36 H x 1 D in

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Art Description

Painting: Acrylic on Canvas.

My show at Watergate Art Galley at the Watergate Building in Washington DC will represent my landscapes, starting January 2017. Also my solo show will be announced by September at Ellena Ab Gallery in Red Hook in Brooklyn. It is a three story building art gallery and will exhibit more than 40 of my works starting November 2016. Currently I am painting fishes , flowers and drip paintings in new colors. Everything you have seen so far of mine will be all new. New colors, deeper, more complex and yet simple. If you wish to be invited to my opening art receptions, please follow me here on and I will be glad to send you an invitation. Or you can follow me on Facebook and I will be sending invitations there as well.. Andrey Bogoslowsky......................This amazing flowers started as a very humble bouquet of three or four gentle flower like sticks with some red on it. But over two years it took me to bring this work to completion. I love how I burned with a lighter these dark pollen and make it more magical, sort of shamanic all and wizardry . I like these two erotic elements in the heart of it all......"The ritual of painting"-8-2015.
It begins by a felling that something needs to be different. I can't just sit around or keep on tending my herb garden. Washing dishes and vacuuming the house is also good, but the feeling of that something else missing is with me anywhere I am. I go to my garage-basement-studio and move away yesterday's paintings. I trow them aside as if they are irrelevant, not important, because it was yesterday. Today is a new day and I will start this day by changing my buckets of water, washing the brushes and sharpening the knifes. Painting knives need to be sharp or else they leave uneven trail of paint.Then I need a moment of mind-heart silence. I sit down on the floor in the center, then I lie down on my back on the floor and look into the ceiling. Nothing comes to my mind. I don't have any prospects, I don't have a plan. I simply am. I surrender myself to being. Just being. My intellect has no desires no wishes no cravings. I am not angry and I am not trying to sell any ideology. I am, what I am. I accept what I am in totality of now moment. Only this moment exists.There is no music, no audio literature from ancient wisdoms, on thoughts cross my mind about any color or size or brush. Any color, any size canvas and any brush is good, is sufficient.Then it begins.I can hear my breathing calm and even. I can see my hands doing what they want to do. I premix many colors so I don't work with colors directly from the tube.The rhapsody of colors pours out onto the canvas out from cans of paint. The brushes go in and out from water. Some brush stokes go up and down some others left to right. Some colors sit in center, some others flow from outside the canvas on to the center and push away some dots, lines come up here and there. There is a struggle on this surface. Some kind of war for peace. Some kind of mystic process of survival of these shapes and lines compete for their place to be here, to exist, to live in color and in form, to become, to materialize, to come to our universe from the abyss of nonbeing with magic power of my now-mind-moment. Some kind of living organism emerges out from the blackness, emptiness of the abyss on to life. The universe had acted to create this baby we call painting. Through me. My role I see more of a shaman who brings good news to sicken souls. I am not all powerful magician. I am a channel by which things are created, and nothing more. A channel.My eyes Are blinded by the inner light. I see nothing. I am trying very hard to see and I step back to see what just had happened.I don't know. I have no name for this new work. But it is new to me. I never seen a painting just like this one before. I go outside to smoke a cigarette and think of other things. To take my mind of what just happened there in the " caldera of the gods" where colors are born and assembled into harmony, like music. Yes, like music, my paintings are very much like music. Something traditional like Bach.I need some time to get detached. Not to own it, not to hate it, not to love it. I need to detach from this creation product- a painting, a thing. An hour earlier there was a blank canvas and now these is a vision of some sorts. I can't explain the process. It is a mystery to me. How harmony is working on a canvas is a paradox of life, creation in exclusive zone where mind and intellect are lost and only feelings can survive. The pressure of all visible dancing colors, shapes and lines. Would it be landscape, flowers, figures, or abstract- its all one world of art. Art that has no name, no limits and no labels can be pined to measure value of this one piece. It just came to life. And it exists among us. We can enjoy it from now on. For ever it will bring some food for the eyes and souls of needy people looking to gaze at the infinite in their own home, in living room, or dining room, or in the bedroom.Although the work is on the canvas the ritual of painting is a mindless, spaceless, timeless, selfless, nameless, impersonal, beyond all imaginable things. It's a process, ritual and not a thing."


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