20x20"
oil on linen
SOLD
Ok, I'm stuck in bug heaven. I promise myself that I will paint an apple or a crab or a portrait or a nude and every time I pick up a brush here lately it's to paint a bug! Oh well, go with the flow or in this case crawl with the critters, I guess.
20x20"
oil on linen
sold
Depending upon your individual point of view, the bee in flight might be poised to strike or hovering to protect. Being your everyday, garden variety cosmic muffin, who chooses to believe more in what she can't see rather than what she can, the hovering bee is most certainly there to guide and protect. However, that wasn't always the case and occasionally still isn't. In the recent past I've come to understand and accept that I see and hear what I think I'm going to see and hear and whether that's bad or good is entirely up to me.
I saw a documentary recently, following a traveling bus of comedians and the shows they performed at each stop. One night a member of the audience yelled something to the comedian on stage in response to a statement he made. He promptly retorted with defensive, angry jibes at the alleged heckler, soon becoming so angry he stomped off stage in disgust. The camera followed him backstage where he most likely expected his colleagues' sympathy and support. Instead he was met with blank stares and puzzled expressions. As he saw their reaction to what had just taken place, he felt even more abandoned and hurt. However, after a brief discussion it was determined that what the "heckler" had actually voiced was his heart-felt support for the comedian's comment. The comedian had, in the end, heard exactly what he'd expected to hear—rejection—instead of what was actually voiced—acceptance.
I guess one could also say, don't kill the bee just to keep from being stung. Or not.
16x20"
oil on canvas
sold
Yet another past commission. I can't remember this little ball of cotton's name, but I do remember, vividly, painting the rug on the stairs. There are four new bug paintings in progress that probably won't be finished until late next week, I have a commission in progress along with some self promo work, but I find myself feeling adrift. (wow, what a surprise suz!) I've got the ole "I don't know what I wanna paint when I grow up" angst again. I know, shut-up and keep painting, it will lead you where you end up.
Still, I'm feeling rather pedestrian. I received an invitation to submit work to this incredible online juried gallery and the work there simply blew me away. The hubs and I have had a running dialog on subject matter, he being of the edgy, conceptual more disturbing school and me the more traditional. But as I struggle to come up with more exciting and unique dailies for posting, I find I'm leaning more and more in a conceptual direction, at least, the bug narrative being an obvious example. However, I'll never be able to stray too far away from who I am artisically and comparing my work always leads me down the same dark road. Comparisons are strictly of the ego and either leave one feeling woefully inadequate or superficially superior—and since neither of these emotions feed the muse, what's the point? We'll see.
20x20"
oil on canvas
sold
Bugs as a narrative. Perhaps that's where the bug series is taking me. Who knows? How many of us have felt the stinging pain of betrayal at the hands of someone we trusted? It's part of life, of emotional growth, of learning that we should give only as much as we are prepared to lose and to know in the end we can never really lose anyone or anything. That was serious, can't catch your breath or swallow a morsel pain. I put that pain in a part of my brain that's reserved only for life's most overwhelming and unspeakable events, especially when I was younger. And yet, in hindsight, those unbearable moments prepared me for the love and trust I enjoy today. And in the end, it was never about who or what we lost, but how much we felt diminished by their absence, and that we can fix.
The lady in the foreground may be a high school girl seeing her BFF engrossed in an animated conversation with her nemesis, or perhaps a suspicious housewife tracking her philandering husbands footsteps during his lunch hour to finally find him canoodling with his administrative assistant. Or even a besotted, insecure middle-aged man mistaking a casual conversation between his wife and best friend as more than it is. Or, they could just be three ladybugs, painted on a stark white canvas.
16x20"
oil on canvas
sold
Say hello to Winston, another commission from the past. I slapped on the latex today and did my best June Cleaver imitation, organizing and making nice in both the store room and the studio. Turned my easel around to face the other way and it felt like a new place! No time to paint, but looking forward to tomorrow in my tidy little space.
16x20" each
oil on canvas
sold
Also sold separately
NDP
I thought it might be a good idea to post the trampoline paintings together to see how they look. It's funny, my graphic design spidey sense keeps chirping away. My former boss keeps whispering in my ear, no—actually, shouting in my ear...why is there a shadow on only one?..why aren't they all the same size?...why are two in mid-air and one not? All valid questions to which I answer, because that's how they were done. Scram!
16x20"
oil on canvas
sold
This is the last of the trampoline series, in this incarnation anyway. I loved painting them, but I don't think they have the impact on the white canvas that I was looking for. I'm definitely into painting more and more figures but I don't think these are the "fit" I was envisioning. Still I like them and hope you do too.
