In a national disgrace, toddlers are literally being held in racist concentration camps on the US Southern Border. Continue reading
Not long ago, I discovered that there are adult Americans who have literally no idea what has been done to others, by this country, in our name, in our very lifetime. (I find this out when I paint something political, and nobody recognizes the reference.) So, I’ve resolved to contribute to the collective memory with some art. Guantanamo Bay, and Abu Ghraib are ripe with images begging for witness. But, more than just retelling history, I want to explore abstraction… ways we were all dehumanized by what was done, ways the psyche processes things that can never be quantified, never be justified. It’s been a journey, trying to find the place where an image is dissolved to its very essence.
Thus, after struggling some with too much realism, I finally found my way.
(Here are 1 and 2…)
It’s been a project all spring, to wander through the Burden woods, to see them without a mind- grid overlay, absorbing the gentle colors and tangled textures, and then to translate the scenery there into subtly abstracted forms in encaustic wax. Such an absorbing project.
Now that the woods have flushed with green, it will be harder. Bright green rarely translates well to canvas, for some reason. I don’t know why. It’s like trying to photograph a flower in that certain shade of purple that just never comes out quite right. But the New York woods in April are a jumble of tawny, ochre , and grey, so subtle and enchanting that I couldn’t get enough of them. This is one of the pieces I painted of the woods in April.