Sunday, October 31, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
I know there's something there inside waiting for the creative spark to ignite but so far everything I think might be it just feels flat when I try. And life has taken on a surreal quality. Yesterday I was questioned by an older gentleman as I walking into our community center and for the life of me I could not fathom what he was saying to me. It was as if I had been suddenly transported to a place that spoke an entirely unknown language. And after 3 tries (and the fellow becoming more and more fed up with me) I garnered that he was asking about 'flu shots'. I was STILL confused - flu shots...?....WTF? - and must admit to responding tersely with "I have no idea what you are asking about!", and his angry snort which left the most dislocated feeling in me. I also, perhaps mistakenly, posted my feelings about the Cedar Corner Gallery's closing on Facebook and got some decidedly, um, short answers. Basically about how I should feel lucky about getting my Artwork back at all and that I didn't know what I was talking about since I didn't have the whole story.
And I went ass-over-teakettle on my walk this morning as I was climbing over a fallen tree and stepped onto what I thought was a piece of branch and had my foot go right through it - it literally was a phantom image in my brain......reality shifted momentarily just then.
Honestly, I'm in an alternate dimension I'm pretty sure.
The painting: The Muse by Alphonse Mucha.....pretty much my biggest influence when I was young.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
OK, memories is the topic boys and girls. Because I watched "Waltz With Bashir", a terrifically done animation movie about a horrific event during the Israeli Army mission in the first Lebanon War of the early eighties. It has a lot to do with memory and how we can 'forget' or reinterpret events. It was very graphic and I admit I wept at the ending.
And was totally depressed with the inhumanity of ourselves to ourselves. Sometimes I think it might just be a good idea if we completely wipe ourselves off the face of this Earth.
Yes, well, I digress.
What struck me about the film and leads me to my topic - along my twisty path, for sure - is that history is made from memory but memory is subjective. We all remember differently, as gets illustrated graphically to me when I reminisce with my brother. We may have been in the same situation, but what he recalls can be completely opposite to what I recall and visa versa. So I'm wondering if 'History' is really truth or just the memories of some folks who put it down on paper first. We all know that many 'events' get reconstructed depending on how we wish to be perceived (you know it's so) and then a whole new spin gets put on something when a different memory comes to light. Not that I am saying that History is lies or whathaveyou; it just makes me wonder how, oh let's say, the Roman occupation of Britain seemed to the women of that day - a viewpoint we often don't get to read about.
And I guess I'm also wondering a lot about memory because of my subject matter in my paintings. It's my memories that are making the painting but it's the interpretation of the viewer and consequently what memories that image evokes for them, that is the communication they get.
And so many of the old master's paintings have been 'given' histories by someone else. Did old so-and-so paint that iconic piece because he was evoking the struggle of the endless fight between good and evil or was it really he needed the cash for next month's rent and rich old patron wanted that subject to go with his new villa?
Who knows. But it makes for lots of 'learned' speculation, huh?
Wonder if I'll be dealt with in this fashion in some future century.......or just a forgotten memory?