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Cake. An access point. A metaphor. A delicious treat. As an artist there are always choices. Everyday. Every piece of work to do or not do. We are trained observers, translators if you will. Something sensory triggers a response and off we go. Now you probably know there is a drawing underneath this square. It is blue pulled finely with a small sable brush. And that brush senses the tagging of those bases as my eye sweeps from one point of interest to another, tracing the visual, sensual triggers. As I do, worlds and poetry unfold in my mind's eye. The lines are foreplay if you will and essence rolled into one. The character of the piece is set right there. In my mind, rhythm and color are closely tied. Light is a character as well as a place. And the scent? It asks me how can paint express lusciousness? It doesn't matter what the subject, if you cannot fall a little in love with it and make that known, it all rings false. The poetry misses a beat. The life is not there. Next time you look at a roomful of art, look for the love. It may be subtle, but you'll know it when you see it. And that's called resonance.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Posted by Janice C. Cartier at 6:26 AM