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Artist Statement for Chadwick White
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I was born in El Paso Texas, next to the Mexican border and on the edge of American reality. Conservative authority statistics estimate that one out of three homes in El Paso is used to stash any of the plethora of drugs that flow through our border daily. Get the picture of my childhood? I often imagine what it must be like to be an average American, blissful of the true underlying realities that govern our worldly imprisonment. Whoa! Mindless consumerism that rots the Earth from the outside in! Ouch, my brain screams at the thought of it.
I must produce; I must reflect. As an artist, I am burdened with the painful necessity to provide a mirror image to the society that has made me; molded me, as if I were in the beginning a formless lump of clay. The years have left deep impressions on me, tooled me into what I now am. My subconscious reflections offer a glimpse of this reality; one that is harsh, corrosive, whose roots draw directly from the vast spring of ignorance beneath our heavily treading feet. Yikes! What's this guy about? Isn't he happy with his 2.5 children and his S.U.V.? the answer to that bares such immeasurable strength that it resonates from my very bones. I hate what the world is-- I hate what we have done to the Earth-- I hate our infant-like reasoning ability. We are on a one way collision course with inevitability. One cannot walk blindfolded across a busy street and expect to live, can he?
I am not an environmentalist, per se; my pains are multitudinous and cover a broad spectrum. I see that the harmony we lack with the world and between ourselves is fast cutting our jugular beyond repair. As the majority of us race about, living a life that was handed to us as being real (it is not!), we have failed to see the boogie man lurking in the shadows, studying us, preying on us, pushing obstacles in our way and causing us to turn in directions not natural to our already wanton path. I see him. I see him taking from us our humanity and our sense of right and wrong. The quickening of our daily lives and the blur of fantastic details that our overworked brains must in vain try to consume are evidence of his machinations. He is the superstructure around us; the walls to our maze. Corrupt Corporate America, the neuro-linguistic-programming forced down our throats, the failing judicial and governmental authorities; these are all signs of a creeping plague that is well on its way to choking the breath from our fragile lungs. I do not see either that salvation from our self-created predicament is in our hands. Truly, we can hardly see the problem, much less can we formulate a remedy. Who has the answers? Certainly not me; I am bound to the cry of an incoming storm. You'd better wake up. You'd better start praying.
These are my scars; This is my soul. Thusly does my spirit manifest itself in three dimensions; all for your viewing pleasure, of course. And, so, I end my psychotic rant with a quote from a popular radio song-- "the light at the end of the tunnel... is a freight train coming our way".
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