Dark of the Moon

Tears of Time

This has been a big week for the earth and sky. Tuesday marked the first day of spring with the vernal equinox, day and night of equal length. From here on out, until autumnal equinox, the hours of light outnumber the dark ones. And today - Thursday, March 22 - the moon is new.

The new moon, also known as the "dark of the moon" is a good time for planting and starting seeds, especially now on the leading edge of spring. Plants started during this hallowed time will grow as the moon grows, magically emerging out of inert darkness, blossoming into ripe fullness to bask in the light of the sun.

So much life begins under the cover of darkness, safe and warm. Until it finds expression in the light of day - through love, art, good words, hard work and grace-full gestures.

I like to think of Marcus's mask for the Denver Hospice project as a representation of the moon's other face . . . her dark side.  This is the face we never see, but would recognize instantly as the face of subterranean wisdom that grows within our psyches - truths about life and mortality and a land beyond time. These truths need the mask of art to give them faces and permit them to speak.

What does the moon's dark face look like to you? Plant a seed with your comment below. And stay tuned for the finale of the Mask Project series. . .

February Longing and Crayola Daydreams

Time and the weather are two elemental forces that influence human cares more than any others. The month of February intensifies this effect: the shortest month with the most infuriating weather. February teases flowers into bloom often to freeze them overnight. It brings the loveliest sunrises and the harshest winds. The four-year boon of an extra day ends up feeling just like any other day and is consumed as quickly as the rest.

But this year, with the gift of our extra day, let's vow to make February 29th a day to dream.

An interesting fact from Marcus' forthcoming book is that his first set of paints was a Crayola(R) watercolor set, bought for cheap and brought home by Anne and his sister Amanda for fun. And it was in the spirit of fun, with perhaps a little hopeful longing too, that Marcus took up the brush and began to once again color his days with creativity, wonder and imagination. Marcus's situation was as cold and inhospitable as February, but with the tease of a little art, the windows of his mind were thrown open and the promise of spring's new life - a transformation - flooded in.

And really, a set of good paints and crayons is exactly what February needs to lengthen the shadows, stretch out the hours, and bring the blush back to the world.

There is still precious time to vote for Marcus'wine label "Biltmore Winter" in the Biltmore Estate contest. Simply click the link and cast your vote.

What's your leap-year dream? Check back here on February 29th when I'll be posting dreams of all colors, and perhaps we'll have a voting contest to see which dream we'd most like to live.

Glimpse the Magic!

Check out this short film, created by Bob Peck of revpictures. It gives an intriguing glimpse into how Marcus creates his magic. And if you haven't already voted, the film provides an easy link for you to go directly to the Biltmore Estate wine label page where you can show your support for Marcus and his lovely fantasy "Biltmore Winter." If you have voted, spread the word and share this with all your friends. We are so grateful for all the support! A toast to all of you!

The Labor of Love

Anne in a sea of photos, selecting the perfect images for each page.

The 25-year artistic career of Marcus and Anne Thomas is best described in  images. Their life and work together has been well documented by Anne, who has an eye for meaning in the ordinary, and an intuition for how their particular story touches a universal longing.

Anne collects and records the memories; the retrospective requires her eyes on the artist as he grows, creates and evolves, as much as it requires the eye of the artist himself.  She has documented Marcus, his work and their life together over the last quarter-century, plus a few years, those years before the accident. Her diligence is a labor of love which gives flesh and blood to the words describing their journey together.

So, as anyone who has loved for long can imagine, when it came to sorting through 25 years of life in images, it was certainly a labor of love! From the photos of Marcus as a young athlete, to his time of transition adjusting to paralysis, to photos of him at work painting his latest masterpiece, not to mention the images Anne has carefully recreated from his original paintings, she can show us the evolution of their love and art.

To Anne we owe this next exciting stage of the journey of creating this retrospective. The images have been selected, and putting pictures to the story is like putting words to music. Stay tuned for perhaps a few sneak peeks and maybe even a photo essay. . .

Thanksgiving: Time Is a Gift

Watch time soar.

Marcus began work on the painting How Time Flies after the first couple of sessions of interviews with Leslee for his 25-year retrospective coffee-table-book.This image was taken during the creation of the painting. The raven is gaining his third dimension and appears to be tearing out of the canvas, over and beyond Marcus' pallet and implements. The pocket watch trails in flight, haplessly careening.


How Time Flies is a direct expression of Marcus' relationship with time – the revelry and ravages, the love and loss, the joy and the heartbreak, as he is (all of us really are) simultaneously blessed and held hostage by time.  In his honesty with himself, Marcus transcends his particular experience of time and touches on something universal. We see through Marcus’ own eyes something we can all recognize in our own relationship with the time of our lives.

Time around the table with friends.

We often catch ourselves lamenting the speed of time. Days, minutes, hours go by so fast, especially when we are with people we enjoy, doing work we love, creating something we believe in. We can't help but wish for more time. It's probably high time we recognized the commodity time is - we can spend it, waste it, lose it on crazy nights perhaps worth forgetting, we want to steal it, and oh if we could just stretch it out to last a little longer. . .

But time fools and foils us completely. We trick ourselves into thinking time is exhaustible when the truth about time is that we make it. Just like we make art, memories, love. "I cherish every moment," says Marcus, when he reflects on the time of his life, nailing the true spirit of Thanksgiving in his depiction of this holy theft."The raven seems like it could surpass time, and I’m hitching a ride – the fountain of life."

"An infinite perspective is the fountain of youth," Marcus says and this is what he shows us in How Time Flies. And this is what defines human thanksgiving - simultaneously blessed and held hostage.

So, here from this corner of the world to yours, wherever you may be: let us give thanks for the folks that make life and time meaningful, for good work, the people who inspire us, the moments we spend with one another . . thanks for art, and cadmium yellow, alzarin crimson, Payne's gray and cobalt blue, trickster ravens, lovers, friends, deep sky over the mystery ahead, and for time and life itself which gives us all these possibilities in which to dwell.

What are you thankful for in this moment? Add to the infinite list (into cyberspace, for which we are also thankful) below.

Work in Progress

An excerpt from the book, tentatively titled:

The Art of Marcus C. Thomas: A Painter's Journey Through Paralysis

If art is a conversation human beings have with the world they are thrown into, Marcus Thomas has a lot to say. “Art comes out of suffering,” Marcus admits, reflecting on the lives of the masters,“but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer with your art.”

The conversation he participates in through his brush strokes and colors is one that is informed by suffering. The ultimate point of his conversation, however, is beauty and resilience.

Wreckage is a subtle but recurring theme in Marcus’ work - dilapidated churches, broken windows, fallen birds, birds captured and killed, beached rowboats. Yet, just about every broken thing you find in his paintings is also amazingly full of life - inhabited by birds or surrounded by natural splendor. Though the fragility of life, something Marcus knows so well, is honestly part of the picture, the story never ends in wreckage; suffering never has the last hurrah.

Marcus' paintings, from his depictions of landscapes and songbirds to his more symbolic statements, reveal both a world on the verge and the painter’s effort to save it in meticulous brushstrokes and bold imagery. Marcus is a painter capable of showing his audience the world they live in, which is often a world they have never seen before. His life, and the artistic accomplishment that it is - born of suffering, beautiful and resilient, shows us the same world.