It’s been over ten years since I first unknowingly got a glimpse of Darren Waterston‘s work. I say “unknowingly” because I had no idea that when I’d been admiring the artwork on Sixpence None the Richer’s 2002 (OMG, yes, really, 2002) album, Divine Discontent, I was actually staring at a mini-version of one of Waterston’s paintings.

I was smitten. And as much as I am completely in love with the record (and I promise you I am), I was very much a slave to the artwork. The heaviness and lightness of it all. Bold and delicate. Divine, indeed, Mr. Waterston.

In 2004, the hubs and I made a sojourn to Nashville’s own Frist Center for the Visual Arts, and guess who I encountered upon entering the gallery? Only one of my favorite modern-day painters, Mr. Waterston. No biggie.

Here are some more of his pieces, which are generally done in watercolor, though Mr. Waterston is equally comfortable in oil or acrylic and yes, since you were wondering, egg temperal (whatever that is), thanks very much.

Fallout

Firmament No. 1


Flush

It’s clear Waterston’s work is ethereal and otherworldly somehow, but it’s not exactly meant to be background music either, if you know what I’m saying, yo. Mr. Waterston’s got something to say. Please observe:

Remission


Wound Study for St. Francis


Here’s the one that’s got me thinking (puns always intended here):

Skull Dreams

I like the idea of this concrete thing, the head, the brain, what have you, having all of these secret and magical thoughts. Like we’re all walking around and greeting one another or sizing each other up based on the visual someone presents, but inside the noggin, there’s so much more. Sparks of interest, thoughts, desires, hopes, worries, fears, doubts, and yes, dreams.

The temporal and physical are just containers for the eternal.

Saying “containers” reminds me of this week’s “Modern Family,” with Phil cracking a joke about Tupperware as a metaphor for relationships. So good.

And that’s just a little glimpse into my madness there. Take that beautiful painting above, insert the crew below amidst the Waterston goodness, and you’ve got an image of my brain’s happenings.

No excuses this time. I am what I am, folks.

Happy. Friday.