Six years ago, Timothy Bruehl was a mess. The negative aspects of gay culture consumed him and, at his worst point, nearly killed him. But a painting project ultimately saved his life.
“I was involved with the drugs, the alcohol, the bars, the websites, and I would have no qualms about admitting that to anyone,” Bruehl says, now clean and sober.
“I’ve been painting all my life, but these things saved me,” he continues, pointing to a stack of paintings at his feet. “This is what saved me psychologically. It gave me a destiny. It gave me a goal. It gave me something else to think about.”
Bruehl thumbs through his paintings and pulls out a beautiful depiction of Albuquerque, N.M. A tattoo that reads Emet (Hebrew for “truth”) on his right arm and a thin red Qabalah bracelet dangling on his left wrist, Bruehl points to the southwestern-style symbols painted in deep red and turquoise and says they’re references to the inlay style of Zuni tribal jewelry.
Bruehl’s paintings are typically one-dimensional, and his lines are almost perfectly straight and clean. He uses a masking technique that’s closer to printmaking than traditional painting and the effect gives his work a flat, folk-art feel. And even though his paintings aren’t realistic reflections of cityscapes, Bruehl’s use of symbolism, plus his color-palette choices and architectural references, make his interpretations easy to decipher, especially for those who’ve been to the cities he paints.
“This is my Sacramento,” Bruehl says, pulling out another 24-by-48-inch panel. “This is inside the California state Capitol looking up at the dome.”
When Bruehl started painting cities in 2006, he set out to depict only those where he’s lived or visited. He’s done a lot of traveling and lived all over the place, so he had plenty of work to do. But at one point during the process, he decided to paint 500 cities around the globe and titled his series 500 Kings in 500 Kingdoms. So far, Bruehl has painted 63 cities, which means he has more than 400 left. He says he won’t stop until he’s either done or dead.
“I think I’ve found my destiny,” Bruehl says, looking at his diptych of the border region, which features two Dia de los Muertos skulls among other imagery associated with Mexico. “I think I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”
But six years ago, Bruehl didn’t think he had much of a future at all. He found out he was HIV positive more than a decade ago, and as he became more immersed in crystal meth and the alcohol-filled gay-bar scene, he began losing hope.
“I tried to take my life,” Bruehl says, pointing to two long, thin scars on his wrists. “This is a serious attempt. Seventy-five stitches in each.”
But he lived. And not long after, he was diagnosed as an “elite controller,” which means he’s one of very few people whose bodies naturally suppress HIV and prevent it from developing into full-blown AIDS. Bruehl was shocked by the news and, already a spiritual man with a deep interest in mysticism, took it as a sign from a higher power.

“Drugs didn’t kill me, my attempt on my life didn’t kill me, HIV didn’t kill me,” Bruehl says. “I mean, how many slaps in the face do you need to be told that it’s time to get out there and do things for other people?”
Bruehl’s city paintings have become his way of reaching out. Many are laced with deeper symbolism that stems from his interest in mysticism and Qabalah, but he says he’s not interested in making people comprehend his pieces at that level. In fact, the central and most important concept is pretty basic—“the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”
“I think a message needs to be out there that we’re all one place, we’re all one thing, we’re all one symbiotic entity,” he says.
Up until now, Bruehl’s been showing some of his work outside San Diego and selling prints of pieces through his website, artistincalifornia.com (he refuses to sell the originals individually because he sees the entire series as one whole piece). He’s been happy with what he calls his “blissful anonymity,” but when he saw the theme of this year’s San Diego Pride celebration, “Pride Around the World,” he knew it was time to show his work in his own town.
“An alternative audience beyond San Diego has worked for me, but it hardly seems right that [with a Pride theme like] ‘Around the World,’ I, a gay man living in San Diego painting the world, would not at least make the effort to share it.”
Timothy Bruehl’s work will be on view at Filter coffeehouse (4096 30th St. in North Park) from Friday, July 15,
through Aug. 14.

San Diego Unseen: An Urban Portrait

