What is it that drives you to get up and face the day? Last night I lay awake most of the night thinking about paintings and what I am seeking to find in the pigment and canvas. I am constantly searching, painting, wiping off, thinking, painting, wiping off again, and thinking more. I am looking for the things that ravage my mind at night, and claw and kick to find their way on to the canvas in the light of day. Part of me knows what they are and another part does not. The feeling of inadequate placement, ability, knowledge keep me humble and constantly falling so close to the edge I feel the depths. So I get up every day and wander with an aimless surety that the day will bring something new and wonderful.
I took dancing as a child and loved it; although I was clumsy and not at all graceful. I watched those that were with an innocence bereft of jealousy; just pure joy at seeing them move through the dances so smoothly, while all I could do was try to calculate my next move. My dance instructor told me over and over to stop thinking and just dance. I never knew what she meant until I got older, it was actually really good advice. I loved the costumes we got to wear, especially the tutus. I loved the layers of satin edged tulle that bounced and moved so easily . I keep returning to tutus in my artwork. There is something hidden in the image of a tutu that is a mystery to me even today.
Here are two of the tutu paintings…they are different yet similar..still the same single figure with a tutu that belies the singleness and stillness of the figure…one day I will paint one that tells me my tutu days are done; but for now…I keep struggling with the balance between the tutu and the figure.
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