Got to get on the stick.. the popsicle stick, that is. I made this painting (12"x16" acrylic on wood) for the talented and generous King of Pop (believe it or not, I didn't come up with that particular play on words, he did) who let me exhibit my work at his popsicle shop during Beacon Open Studios. I go in there and peer down into the case at the array of beautiful handmade paletas stacked this way and that in their boxes, at least 2 dozen varying flavors, with colors ranging from pale to bright. I tried to get the impression of that sight, at least, if not the density of layers. Mixing the muted hues, before I decided to outline them, made me imagine what a case of popsicles painted by Morandi might look like. More elusive to capture is that feeling of anticipation which accompanies the gaze, in that moment before you select between fruity or milky, bracingly tart or creamy sweet. Today mine combined the two in a vanilla pop loaded with fresh cherries.
A still life by Morandi, 1948
Also, to clear up any confusion (or to smooth any smirking complexions), to 'get on the stick' means to get busy, get going, and alludes to starting a car using the stick shift. However, fewer and fewer people learn to drive a standard transmission, I've gathered. I'm rather proud that I can drive one. Even though these days the main thing I feel like clutching is... a popsicle stick. Or an ice cream cone.