I have been an artist in Chicago since coming out of the Navy in 1959. Subjects of Moby-Dick, harlots, and bird-headed men are links in my chain of art. WWII Memorials are the most current.
...More WWII paintings will continue to be added...
I grew up in the 1940s as World War II veterans returned home from far away places and battlefields. The Pacific and its islands’ names—Bougainville, Vella Lavella, Kolombangara, Tulagi, Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Saipan, Kwajalein—seemed exotic and full of mystery. Men came home tattooed, with memories etched into their faces. They gave us kids mementos and souvenirs of their wars: enemy helmets, clothing, flags, medals, and bayonets, objects most had taken in battle. Anything with bloodstains on it was held in awe and highly prized. We played with these trophies in our own battles fought with mud and rocks.
The stories I heard seared my memory and burned into imagination. I would wake up in the middle of the night to pull a box full of souvenirs from under my bed and take them to the bedroom window to touch them in the moonlight. My mind traced their paths, imagining the men that owned them and what had happened.
Now, I look back on history as an adult. There were terrible atrocities committed by the Japanese, but, now, I recognize that there was mutual pain, suffering, and loss endured on both sides of the Pacific. These paintings are dedicated with great admiration and respect as memorials to the men and women who lived in that time and experienced pain of the flesh and heart.
...More WWII paintings will continue to be added...
I grew up in the 1940s as World War II veterans returned home from far away places and battlefields. The Pacific and its islands’ names—Bougainville, Vella Lavella, Kolombangara, Tulagi, Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Saipan, Kwajalein—seemed exotic and full of mystery. Men came home tattooed, with memories etched into their faces. They gave us kids mementos and souvenirs of their wars: enemy helmets, clothing, flags, medals, and bayonets, objects most had taken in battle. Anything with bloodstains on it was held in awe and highly prized. We played with these trophies in our own battles fought with mud and rocks.
The stories I heard seared my memory and burned into imagination. I would wake up in the middle of the night to pull a box full of souvenirs from under my bed and take them to the bedroom window to touch them in the moonlight. My mind traced their paths, imagining the men that owned them and what had happened.
Now, I look back on history as an adult. There were terrible atrocities committed by the Japanese, but, now, I recognize that there was mutual pain, suffering, and loss endured on both sides of the Pacific. These paintings are dedicated with great admiration and respect as memorials to the men and women who lived in that time and experienced pain of the flesh and heart.
