Friday, June 15, 2007

Ring, Green





oil on panel, 24" x 24"

I am enjoying taking a break from narrative, although the narrative isn't totally gone, just distilled. A gold ring in the center square is like those used in some of my other paintings (see Mass Grave, and Lunar Moth Self-Portrait). I like the contrast between the formal rigidity of the square and the loose, atmospheric brushwork. The inside square is not truly "square", however. It coexists with the surrounding space, push-pull dynamic like a house being weathered by nature while simultaneously using resources to maintain itself. The golden ring is not a perfect ellipse, looking as though it has had a few hard knocks. It retains its structural integrity and is not eclipsed by the shadows of the void it inhabits. The black square and ring make a painting within a painting.
I am in the process of pursuing this idea of the square, the void, and filling it. I think of Jasper Johns' Target with Four Faces from 1955 and his lithograph, Target from 1960. I am also obsessed with packing my son's lunch in the bento box style lunchbox used by the lady at the Vegan Lunch Box blog: http://veganlunchbox.blogspot.com/ ! I am sure no serious artist would ever admit this; besides, how many serious artists are moms who would actually take pleasure in the mundane drudgery of packing lunch? This activity of filling squares with precious things also reminds me of the rituals of saving locks from the first haircut, placing photographs in albums, organizing collectibles like stamps, as well as jewelry in boxes. The paintings also remind me of washing window panes (stroking the surface of the window while seeing the yard through it), as well as the more recent and less pastoral association of the computer screen and Windows programs.

With all the activity of film, video, digital media, something still like a painting can be refreshing. It can also be perplexing, as the viewer is being led in a different way than other media. While I am hopeful that viewers can get something out of my work, it bothers me less that my audience is small. We don't always catch every sunrise, glimpse every bird, or marvel at each other. Spiritual experiences can't be forced in nature or art. Being constantly engaged would be exhausting as well as impossible, ask anyone who has ever made the mistake of trying to see an entire art museum in a day. My work is available to be experienced, but it will most often go unseen, perhaps even by people who are looking directly at it.