Passing Through

"Passing Through"  $145 U.S.

Painted in Acrylic on 9" X 12" 140 lb. paper.

How to Purchase: Buy this art! Send me an Email

Send a cash donation to:
Dan Bunch
2236 Co. Rd. 314
Cleburne, TX
76031

All paintings and artwork are guaranteed! If you are not satisfied you can get all your purchase money back upon the return, (with pryor notification to me), in new condition, of any artwork! No questions asked. (only the shippiing; posting; handling; if any; costs will not be refunded.)

Howdy,

I am a serious artist.

That is the main work I have to do these days. I paint. I do some sculpting, when I get an urge to make a mess. Usually that is only in clay. But wax, stone, even Crayola for kids sculpting (forgot the name) is not above my materials list. My "materials list" usually means whatever is at hand!

I have presented my artwork to a few galleries. All like my work, but so far only one gave me any hope at all of making room for my art. I paint in a Primitive art genre. I paint trying to show motion and emotion. So far I have not connected to the right gallery, nor perhaps agent. But I will, hopefully.

Do you know of a gallery that has room for Primitive paintings that show motion and emotion? Send me an Email

I do love to do art. I must have on hand now some 30 or more canvas of all sizes, and hundreds of Acrylic paintings done on 140 Lb paper stashed away in portfolios. I just cannot quit. And I love it! It is getting to be awesome, in that I have progressed a bit in my artwork. I try to progress. Progress to me means that I am beginning to reach that point where I can disassociate from my own environment, but reach into my souls environment to find that world of peace and contentment. That world where we should live. The one we messed up by letting the greedy live amongst us. That sounds brittle, but it is true. Think about a world where there would be no wealthy, no gold to lust after, no forests denuded. No reason to sale one's minutes for tokens in which to buy bread.

The sweat would still be there. The toil. The heart-break and naturalness of man's living. But it would be ours. Our sweat, our toil, for the bread that we got by our own hands. Too bad that we didn't take on the good parts of the Indian's life, and let him take on the good parts of ours. Too bad. Think how that life would be inside that world.

To drift along on all the land instead of down ribbons of it set aside to direct us, and our money (tokens) into places we don't really want to go, in order to reach the places we do want to go. Which sounds nastier, and which the more wholesome? Pitching our Tee Pee or Wigwam on a slight incline to the South, where the Southern sun would reach the entrance on first light of sunrise. Instead of breathing the manufactured air filtered down metal corridors to reach us in near windowless rooms, we could breath deeply of decaying pine needles, mixed with the smell of water moving along the stream below. We get meat from the hanging deer someone shot early this morning for our breakfast. Or we scratch the bites from the bedbugs as we pick up the telephone to order food handled by people we must trust, but perhaps shouldn't!

later,
Dan Bunch
TX