These are two paintings I did in the spring of 2002, acrylic on canvas, 8"x12". Every time I see the paintings- they're at my brother's house, so I see them periodically, and I'm here this weekend- I remember what I was thinking about. The chairs and table were in my city apartment kitchen. The wheels and cart piled with ladders was upstate, by the road outside a building; I pulled over and photographed it. I didn't fully know why I was starting to like painting this kind of stuff, but I knew it had something to do with the wooden wheel spokes, the spindles of the chair backs, and the ladder rungs all echoing each other. Eleven years seems like a long time ago to me, but I still like these pieces a lot; I recall the awkwardness of finding my way to the final colors and the partial simplifying of forms and lines. It was a couple months before my graduation, too late to understand or explain why it mattered more to me than whatever I was doing for my illustration portfolio. Actually, I still can't understand or explain what I mean. That year, and the year after, were like that. Then I wasn't painting much at all for a while. And then somehow I found my way back.
No comments:
Post a Comment