Brad Overton

THE WEIGHT OF WONDER I have been painting for a long time. I hope to paint for a long time to come. The reason I chose painting and not something else is that painting called me. Anytime I thought something else was calling painting shoved it into the back seat. Painting called shotgun and that’s it. So whatever I was going to do or think or wish or choose, painting would be there right next to me saying, yep or, nope. These new paintings represent my love of the process of discovery in my art. That process goes like this. I wake up from a dream of a picture, I make coffee and think about it, sketch and write. I usually, no, always, laugh. Then I start taking pictures and cutting paper or drawing on the canvas. Whatever steps are required to get from the idea or the dream to the image I want. (I don’t first always dream of the picture but it happens often enough that it can be considered part of the process). The distance between what I finally paint and what I imagined I would paint is how I gauge the success of the effort. Sometimes I’m surprised by what emerges but most often I’m delighted. The difference is that I expected to be able to do what I meant to and I’m happy to see the finished art work arrive as I imagined it. It’s like seeing some wonderful friend you just picked up at the airport who you hope hasn’t changed. And there they are. The same or better than you expected and smiling. And all the memories come flooding back. The wonder and joy of knowing you’re not alone in your world and that someone shares common stories with you knows the music you know and loves it. Knows your heart, loves it. The lead toys in my paintings have been through a lot. They’re much older than me. They’ve survived and arrived in my studio ready to go again. Like old friends I hope haven’t changed they surprise me with their wit and wildness. And together we bear the weight of wonder. Which is just the work of faithfully bringing life to dreams and ideas. Ideas I couldn’t have without them or at least wouldn’t have this visual language and vocabulary to speak with. I’d have some other vehicle, some other way of moving forward with what I love and want to see. I’d be driving something but I’ll tell you what….. I’d sure as hell be heading west under blue skies, through thunderstorms and wild nights. I’d have the radio on the ghost station that goes in and out on the hills and valleys as the saguaros dance in the moonlight. Shotgun, by God, shot…gun. -BRAD OVERTON, 2025.