ABOUT PAUL SCOTT MALONE

Art serves as life's shadow reality, its conscience. Art lurks in allwyways and byways ready always to let us know that the beliefs we consider firm and faithful may have misplaced their righteous natures somewhere along the way. It reminds us that someone must always be plodding along behind the crowd scanning for that lonely face of truth, which turns away from the false principles we so often embrace. The artist, therefore, must be a steadfast sojourner, prepared to show us again and again the proper human path ... or at least something close to it.

A JACK INTERVIEW WITH PAUL SCOTT MALONE

What was your first experience with art?

My mother, in addition to working as a bank officer, painted roses. And some other things. One summer when I was very small, the first of many such summers, she enrolled me in an oil painting class at her best friend's studio/art shop. There were about ten kids in that class. We were always covered in paint when the class was over. It was the most fun I'd ever had in my life and because of it I never really stopped at least playing with drawing and painting, even during the years I was writing books. I also wrote poetry. Poetry, in writing, comes closes to visual art. Great poetry makes no sense to the senses but it can cause us to cry, to weep, to turn away in awe of this unique thing lying upon the page we are holding. A truly great painting -- abstract or otherwise -- can bring tears to my eyes. It shows us what the human spirit is capable of when it forgets everyday life and turns itself over to the terrible mystery of life.

What is your favorite medium & why?

Oil painting. It's the easiest to manipulate and to think about afterwards. You slap oil paint on a canvas and you've got a few days at least to look at it and see if you like the slop.

What style are you most drawn to? Does it ever change & if so, why?

Abstract. Or Atmospheric Expressionism as my work has come to be known. I used to do a little realism to show myself that I could -- work with linear perspective especially to train myself in it -- but I long ago burned most of it, along with a couple hundred other paintings. I regret that now but it was necessary as part of my god-like spiritual development. I've never cared much for representing the world that lies all around us, the world we can step outside our front doors and see all around us. God or nature or whatever did a pretty good job of that; why try to replicate it? I'd rather create in the way God or nature created ... blindly, with explosions and, of course, gravity. Mechanics. All that stuff ... the stuff that led to the sciences which are so similar to fine art. A calculus problem is so similar to writing a short story that it's kind of creepy. The same kind of progressions of thought: A to B to C ... etc. Anyway, like nature, I've always preferred to create objects, experiments, manifestations that are unique and new upon the Earth, creations unto themselves, completely new, never seen before in human or any other kind of life. "Make it new," as the famous poet said.

Have you always been an artist or is this a career change?

I've played at it for years as I was working as a writer first of journalism and then of fiction. I loved writing but I always knew it would come to this: Like moving to poetry. As Faulkner once said: something like this: A novelist are failed short story writers, all short story writers are failed poets. Reveal the most through the least. Make it simple. That's what abstract painting does for me. It shows me the universe on a canvas the size of a bedside table. So, yes, I would eventually get to what I truly wanted and, frankly, knew I would have to take up as a way of life. To make a work of art that stands on its own to be looked upon with deep thought and then to be remembered: it's a marvel.

Have you ever taken classes/courses?

I have taken 12 credit hours of art classes. A few drawing classes -- I still like to draw rather unusual pencil portraits -- and one watercolor class from an exceptional teacher.

What do you want your art to accomplish or describe?

Nothing. It's a brand new thing upon the face of the Earth, a piece of work like the birth of a star. What does that accomplish? A new star? A slight shift in the gravity of the universe? Not much really. But what an experience!

Art programs are being cut all over the nation in schools - what's your opinion on this?

Then those poor students should find the guts to do it themselves. If they really want to make art they'll teach themselves how. If it's something you HAVE to to do ... well, we always find a way.

Where is your favorite place to create?

A huge studio with lots of windows.

Which comes first - the inspiration or the medium?

One and the same.

How has your work changed over time?

Very little really, though I have moved more and more toward paintings which nobody can say: Oh, that's a lilly. I've moved always in my career in the direction of complete abstraction, the most obscure yet stirring representation of something that I can concoct but not understand no matter how long I stare at it. When you stare at the stars, at the ocean, at a forest ... do you understand it? Reaching that point -- when you can just put paint on some kind of ground, any kind -- is like breaking free from the chains that have been held you tight. Finally, you're free of this planet and you're living in a planet within ... within your mind, and your body. It's the only true expression of the singular human in visual art. It means only what your heart and soul and mind unknowingly create. There is no meaning; there is only the object! So: when someone asks me: What does it mean? I say: Beats me. It's just a painting. Nothing more. What does your shoestring mean? True art serves no function; it does nothing for us but delight and mystify.

If somebody was standing in front of one of your works, is there anything you'd want to tell them?

No, sir; no, ma'am: I'm silent on that. Might say: Hope you like it.

Do you have a favorite piece you've done?

About fifty of them. I love my paintings, almost all of them ... and the other stuff too.

Can you draw a perfect circle freehand?

I can't draw a one-inch straight line. My handwriting is unreadable. That's not my game. Only Raphael could draw a perfect circle. I think it was Raphael ... wasn't it? Wish I could ... just for fun.