Interview with Benjamin Green

1. What haunts your art, and drives you to create?
 
Art is magical. Sure, there is some luck involved and the hard work of experience, but a guiding light pushes and pulls all my work—and that light is beauty. Beauty haunts my art, and introduces an ethical element. Most ethics could be simplified to "do right by your kin, don't be ugly." I am a self-taught artist. No-one ever told me how things "should" be done, or that I "should" not even try what I attempt. That, the lack of training and influence, for me, is how I am lucky; I ask myself, "why not?" and do it. The work remains magical, and I avoid too much explanation; it all usually starts by asking, "Why not?" Like, "why not paint a raven that is pure reflected colors instead of black?"
 
2. It is said that most humans are forgotten after three generations. What would you wish for people to remember about you the longest?
 
As an introvert, my impact on others is minimalized—except through my art. If I am remembered, I hope it is for trying to articulate a mature vision of the world while maintaining my status as an outsider. Oh, and maybe someone will remember that I gave them a painting they really wanted for $39.47—all the money they had (even when they came  back with the change they found in their car and under the couch cushions at home).
 
3. If you were a ghost, where would you linger or wander? Why?
 
There are a few places I want to revisit forever. Most contain hot springs in natural settings. Not to draw a roadmap, but think eastern Oregon, the playas in Nevada, and a couple unknown springs here in my own canyon home.



Benjamin Green is the author of eleven books including The Sound of Fish Dreaming (Bellowing Ark Press, 1996) and the upcoming Old Man Looking through a Window at Night (Main Street Rag) and His Only Merit (Finishing Line Press). At the age of sixty-eight, he hopes his new work articulates a mature vision of the world and does so with some integrity. He resides in Jemez Springs, New Mexico.