Elmi L. Ventura Mata is a painter based in New York City.
His paintings explore The pictorial frame of the canvas, which serves as a template for the configuration of the painted subject. As of late, the mergence between abstraction and figuration offers a transformative nature in the work. The schism that exists between the two, acts as pendulum that swings back and forth; a guiding force within the work.
In his words, As a painter, its my calling to sift reality and pour its aspects onto the canvas through the brush. In doing so; a straightfoward vision and sincere voice emerges. Painting offers the artist an opportunity to view and observe life through a unique lens.
Imagination is a powerful lens polish. An integral aspect to the painting process. Imagination allows access into the subconscious, which coincidentally defines us."
Elmi earned his MFA from The Tyler School of Art's Painting Department.
He also holds a BFA in Painting and Drawing from The Cleveland Institute of Art.
Excerpt from War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy:
At the edge of the road stood an oak. Probably ten times the age of the birches that formed the forest, it was ten times as thick and twice as tall as they. It was an enormous tree, its girth twice as great as a man could embrace, and evidently long ago some of its branches had been broken off and its bark scarred. With its huge ungainly limbs sprawling unsymmetrically, and its gnarled hands and fingers, it stood an aged, stern, and scornful monster among the smiling birch trees. Only the dead-looking evergreen firs dotted about in the forest, and this oak, refused to yield to the charm of spring or notice either the spring or the sunshine.
"Spring, love, happiness!" this oak seemed to say. "Are you not weary of that stupid, meaningless, constantly repeated fraud? Always the same and always a fraud? There is no spring, no sun, no happiness! Look at those cramped dead firs, ever the same, and at me too, sticking out my broken and barked fingers just where they have grown, whether from my back or my sides: as they have grown so I stand, and I do not believe in your hopes and your lies."
As he passed through the forest Prince Andrew turned several times to look at that oak, as if expecting something from it. Under the oak, too, were flowers and grass, but it stood among them scowling, rigid, misshapen, and grim as ever.
"Yes, the oak is right, a thousand times right," thought Prince Andrew. "Let others - the young - yield afresh to that fraud, but we know life, our life is finished!"
A whole sequence of new thoughts, hopeless but mournfully pleasant, rose in his soul in connection with that tree. During this journey he, as it were, considered his life afresh and arrived at his old conclusion, restful in its hopelessness: that it was not for him to begin anything anew - but that he must live out his life, content to do no harm, and not disturbing himself or desiring anything.