Untitled 1969

Sam Gilliam made this unnamed work on paper sometime in his expansive career using ink and graphite. Looking at this piece, I can just imagine the dance of the artist's hand, the quick flicks and deliberate strokes building up this energetic composition. Those bold, black lines feel so decisive, almost architectural, but then you notice the splatters and drips, that give it this sense of spontaneity. The little touches of red are like sparks, igniting the whole thing. I wonder what Gilliam was thinking about when he made this. Was he feeling jazzy, improvising like one of those great saxophone players? Or was he wrestling with something, trying to capture a feeling that words couldn't express? Whatever it was, this piece feels like a direct line to his inner world. It's all feeling, intention, and meaning.