Featured Paintings Morphine | Morphine |
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Morphine Aug 19/2006
I was about to start a new painting and had the canvas prepped and ready to go.
What happened that day changed everything.
I was on my motorcycle heading for the gym when a young woman pulled out in front of me, running me over and trapping me under her car.
Fortunately there were some amazing people on the scene that day who extracted me and saved my life.
I was in a bad way with lots of broken bones. I was taken to the ICU at Foothills Hospital.
A couple days later I was moved into the trauma unit where I was given a self-administered Morphine drip.
Whenever I was in pain I could press a button, which released Morphine into my system. It would release morphine at most every 9 minutes. Over a 48 hr. period I was monitored pressing the button 200 times an hr.
After 3 days of this I was having terrible nightmares that were spilling into my waking hours.
I won’t forget that sensation as long as I live.
It was months after my release from the hospital and still bed ridden, that I was thinking of getting down into my studio to do some work.
On crutches and my left arm in a cast I set out down the 22 stairs to my studio.
I threw a canvas on the floor and I started to drip and pore paint.
After a few minutes I was in pain and so I re-negotiated the 22 stairs back up stairs.
A couple days later I returned, renewed and excited about the work.
I started another layer of dripped paint, another and another while tipping the canvas slightly with my crutch so the paint would move and mix. I pushed the canvas around with my crutches as I tipped it even further from either end. I mixed, maneuvered, tipped and dragged paint across that canvas until I collapsed on the chair in exhaustion.
That day took allot out of me and I didn’t return to the studio for almost a month.
When I did return it was with my wife Cathy. As we entered the studio the painting was still on the floor exactly where I left it. It was as if I was seeing it for the first time because I hardly remembered doing it.
Without hesitation Cath said to me “ that’s Morphine”
She was right; I had just painted the most profound image of my life without realizing its significance.
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