Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
It is really difficult to photograph these dark paintings in various stages. I am afraid to take it out to shoot because it freaks out my neighbors. The paintings, I mean. Not for everyone, I get it, people.
But I am really excited about where this is going and you can get the general gist from a less than optimal image. Looking for moths now, that will be emerging from the cocoons.....is it synergy, or something more sinister?
Friday, June 26, 2009
Jackson sent word to Wyeth that he wanted to have his portrait painted. When Wyeth's entourage of dealers and agents heard of the possible portrait, they were thrilled at the idea of the millions that would be made from the painting and subsequent reproductions. Andrew refers to them "like mafia" who used him for money and didn't care about him at all. And, of course, they all wanted to be photographed with Jackson who apparently had an entourage of his own.
The two artists met at the Brandywine River Museum where they looked at Andrews paintings and talked.
Andy states," I found him a very sweet, sensitive person, very nice, very intelligent."
At some point a man from Jackson's entourage marched in the stated that Michael had ten more minutes and then they were leaving.
Andy goes on to say, "We had a real thing going between us and then these shits got into it. The poor guy was owned by these people. I felt sorry for him. God help any artist that gets caught up in that."
Though he felt a real connection to Michael, Andrew bowed out of the project saying, "Imagine me painting with those guards standing there."
So, we have no amazing portrait of Michael Jackson by Andrew Wyeth, two great artists who sadly now are both gone.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Here is a TED talk he did explaining his work.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tammy, who is a sculptress, has teamed up with Heather Bartlett to create "Body Politics", a collaborative work that addresses concepts of body image and thus opens a great dialogue about the issues surrounding how we see our physical selves.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I had the idea of these plant tentacles coming off of the body.....that one of these is holding the tarsier in place. Still plenty to do and some things to rework.....
Monday, June 15, 2009
Realizing that I have seriously neglected my home, I was glad to get into that the cleaning/organizing nut head space this weekend (which even that I do in a creative way...there is no escape!)
After a last minute coffee with a struggling friend, I ran off to the thrift store (Monday is 30% off day!)
I guess I should go paint, huh?...Maybe I need to organize my drawers......paint drawers. Does that count?
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Anyway, so back home I decided to work on my narratives, which I have woefully neglected in my painting frenzy.
New words for Nee, Pen, The Flowering Bull, and a short and to the point line for Liar.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
I love when the eyes begin to have life. It is a moment that nothing compares to in painting. It is the moment of true inspiration. That word is perfectly defined by "to inflame" or "to breathe."
I feel painting by painting I am moving back to my surrealism roots, though it is happening slowly. I am in a constant battle with my left brain that wants to rationalize my ideas, to make them fit some sort of straight line of thinking, to categorize. I walk a line with the work, balancing the push and pull of each side of my self.
Meaning is vital, but when meaning becomes narrow, creativity is stifled.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
This is the beginning stage of "Phobetor." It was important to get the masses laid in before the weekend. That is a tarsier sitting on his head, sort of a beautifully creepy kind of asian monkey.
For those of you who need a brush up on your Greek myth, Phobetor is one of the the Oneiri, who were the sons of Hypnos, god of sleep. Phobetor, or Icelus, was the personification of animals in dreams.
I am off to my first voluneer shift at Artomatic tomorrow. Have a great weekend, everyone, And as always many thanks for your great encouragement and comments.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
After breakfast with a friend and running some errands, I really only had a few hours to paint today. These small paintings are done alla prima, and since I don't typically work in this manner, it is a nice way to hone in on technique exclusively.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Thank you, Anna.....
And thanks to you all for your comments this morning on my earlier post. From my easel, I keep looking out of my third story window for a limping black figure anywhere in view....
To my surprise, when I whistled, he came toward me and I assessed he had experienced a traumatic injury at some time, probably via car. He followed me at a distance as I walked back to my car, and he then kept walking. I hurried home, just yards away, to get a leash. I found him again in the wooded path behind our complex and again he came toward me when I whistled stopping just short of my hand. It was then that I realized I forgot to bring food, which is the most important offering to have if you are trying to rescue an animal. Stupid, Tracey! I tried anyway, but as soon as he heard the slightest sound of the chain, he hurried off. Calling him again, I walked back toward home. He really wanted to trust me but just couldn't bring himself to and walked off in the other direction. Defeated I walked home. With each step I became angrier, because I forgot the food and it was obvious by his reaction to the leash that someone had mistreated him. I could smell the food from the various restaurants across the street and wondered what it must be like for him to inhale those lovely odors and not be able to get to any of it.
Back home I put on my muck boots, grabbed a can of Reuben's Wellness and a fork and headed back to the woods. If I can't get him, at least his belly will be filled. Whistling as I went along, I circled three times, but he was gone. Back home I made the decision to report him to animal control. At least he MAY have chance if they pick him up, but I realize it is unlikely, just as it is unlikely he will survive on his own.
I cannot tell you all how heartbroken I am this morning over this dog. And angry. Because of lack of responsibility and respect for God's creation, a sickly, injured, terrified dog is wandering around waiting to get hit by a car or starve to death. I hope the officer can find him before it is too late.