Julia Cooper

It's no secret to those who know me that I love Patrick Swayze. Or, to put it more precisely, Bodhi. Sure, I'm a girl, so of course I've seen Dirty Dancing a million times, and when I was fifteen I went through a phase where I thought I was S.E. Hinton, so I love The Outsiders and was peeved when one obituary referred to Swayze as Dally instead of Darry. But Point Break was truly the greatest Swayze movie of all. His most powerful onscreen pairing was not with Jennifer Grey or Demi Moore, but with the handsome dullard Keanu Reeves. They were perfect foils, "fire and wood" if you will. They made the tired cliche come alive. You may laugh (many do) but I find that however silly the story may be (delightfully so) the relationship between Bodhi and Johnny Utah feels real and heartwrenching. Swayze spoke every line in that movie like a prophet letting wisdom tumble from his lips. Even "Back off, Warchild. Seriously." I think of his words every time I find myself creeping along the freeway in my metal coffin. The final goodbye absolutely kills me. I rank the last ten minutes or so of Point Break up there with The Searchers and Notorious as Perfect Endings.
I never met Patrick Swayze. I don't feel too sad about his death, maybe because it wasn't much of a surprise. But I have been thinking of him a lot since his death. Mostly I'm just very, very grateful to him for playing such a big part in such a fantastic movie. Like Bodhi, Swayze will live on forever after death.

My most recent painting is a portrait of David Kennedy, a dear friend of my parents' who has done some amazing work with inner city gangs. His approach to gang violence and gun control had an amazing effect in Boston during the 90s, and he's been coordinating similar programs in other cities. He was recently profiled in the New Yorker, and to honor this prestigious event, my parents commissioned a portrait of him embodying one of the phrases used in the article, describing him as a "high plains drifter." This is quite apt; David looks like Jesus dressed like John Cusack in "Grosse Point Blank." 
I like how this painting turned out, but I fear it can't rival the illustration of David in the New Yorker. Once you've got that, you know you've made it!

I'm working on a portrait right now of this cool guy which will be done in a few days, so in lieu of any new pictures I'm going to make a handy list of artists I admire! I'll try to stick to living artists, since my list of historical figures could go on forever.

www.martin-munoz.com/
These two artists, Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz, do a lot of amazing stuff, but I particularly love their perverse series of snowglobes. I want to steal their ideas. 

www.brandonbird.com/
I first became aware of Brandon Bird in college. At a very stressful point in my education, his work reminded me that it was ok to have fun with painting. Plus, his subject matter is awesome! His Deep Space 9 paintings singlehandedly convinced me to give that show another try (and I loved it). I only mourn that I missed the Law & Order art show.

www.pamgolden.com/
Pam was my art teacher from 3-13, and is no doubt one of the main reasons I'm pursuing art today! She instilled in me a great respect for spirals, and the belief that art and life cannot be separated. Her chair sculptures are beautiful. I love her use of mixed media.

faithmouse.blogspot.com/
I have an absurd love for anyone who paints one thing obsessively. (See also Louis Wain, painter of cats).

www.gallerypauleanglim.com/Gallery_Paule_Anglim/Enrique_Chagoya.html
Chagoya is probably my absolute favorite living artist. Everything he does blows me away. The clarity of his ideas, the simplicity of the way he puts them across, and the incredible collage of images and ideas he achieves both inspires and intimidates me. I would love to see some of his work in person!

A new painting is up!! They're Like Ghosts was meant to be the first in a Point Break series, but halfway through the painting I realized that what I really wanted to do was a Keanu series. The painting was put aside, poor Lori Petty still pupil-less. I finally finished it today in an unheard of burst of productivity. Even though it no longer fits into my series, featuring only Petty and a blurry Swayze, I have great fondness for it, because its beginning heralded my return to oil paint after more than two years of acrylic. I had forgotten the delicious, foodlike texture of oil paint, the flexibility afforded by the long drying period, the colors.... I'm never going back.

Once the paint is on the brush, I'm set. I know what I'm doing, I do it, and I have fun. But the effort it takes to get there! I don't know why, but from the moment I enter my studio I have to talk myself into working, step by step. I can spend an hour just staring at the wall, thinking, when I know that I don't really have to think, I just have to do. 
On this note, I have resolved to pick up a thread I dropped ages ago, and do some less formal, more improvisational work, in the form of movie posters. Awesome movie posters. Like these:

Except, you know, pertaining to my daily life. Or how I wish my daily life was. I suspect Zac Efron will be making an appearance. It's been far too long since I last painted his glowing blue eye.

Aided by cooling Northern California breezes, my brain has once more begun to process ideas. A few currently percolating:

Picture these in a blender:

Or how about a series: Famous Sports Legends?

Well, that's all I've got. But isn't it enough?