I have come to learn that all the weird interests I obsess over -- little snippets I stumble on and then get a hair up my ass about and must immerse myself in fully, digesting every speck of dirt I dust off as I search to "uncover the truth" -- it's all inspiration of some kind. I'm winding my way through a maze of artistic inspiration, and these "things" shall all culminate in serving as illumination as I make my way to the prize -- my authentic creation.
I don't know what that is to be just yet, and I'm impatient to know when exactly I shall stumble upon that "a ha!" moment. But I don't give up.
Some may call it a "waste of time," while I myself for years thought of it as "passing time." It used to be a distraction for me. It was my way of creating an Alternate Universe, some place to flee to that gave my days purpose (not to be confused with meaning), even if that purpose was just to amuse myself until tomorrow comes. But every day continues to be an endless stretch of the evening before that ever elusive tomorrow.
Why am I writing this? Can't rightly say. It just crossed my mind and I felt the need to put it to paper...er, computer. There might be something important in here, ya know! Some secret...some elusive filament. Or maybe I do it just to please my hoarder heart. Some may say I'm a collector of crap. I prefer to see myself as a sleuth of stimulus!
In the meantime, feast your eyes on the following...
Commissioned Wedding Piece |
I must admit I'm quite partial to the imagery in this piece, or at least my interpretation of said imagery. I love the idea of the tree as roots, or the foundation, of a newly-forming (or already existing family), with its leaves turning into butterflies that are flying off (or have flown off) into different directions in the world.
And here are the last few completed pieces for the American Indian series to be available at Artifest in June.
I will be mounting these pieces this weekend on black backings. The reason why the backgrounds looks wavy on these is because I photographed the cut-outs, pre-mounted, on the black leather ottoman in my living room. Sloppy, I know. For shame!