Jack set his pencil on the piece of paper and froze, again. "Ahg!" he said aloud. The walls of his room echoed the word back to him. "Why can't I start writing?" he thought. Jack closed his eyes and forced his hand to move the pencil. Five minutes later, he opened his eyes and read the words aloud, "Pig, creeped, shoes, Los Angele-Gah!" "It's never been this bad," he thought, "writer's block sucks." His inner writer, bound by Jack's procrastination, couldn't manage to construct a coherent sentence. The proverbial concrete had set. All he could do was run to stand still.
The Flemish painting masters focused on presenting parables to teach viewers lessons about the human condition. This tradition of story telling is where my paintings begin. But in contrast to these works, my visual stories are open ended; the viewer decides what questions or answers they may hold.
I work to create paintings that will act as a catalyst to awaken the inner world of the viewer’s own awareness. As a Rorschach ink blot provides a subjective window into people’s thoughts and emotions, my paintings allow a personal experience for each viewer. There are limitless interpretations for a single image. Every interpretation is correct as it reflects our individual emotional landscapes.
The physical landscapes in my work draw influence from miniature Indian paintings. Their abstract use of space and ornate treatment of vegetation helps in showing the relationship of humankind and nature. Although the landscape elements are players on the same stage, the human characters seem indifferent to their presence. They are preoccupied with deeper matters of heart and mind.
I have been painting for 20 years and studied at Massachusetts College of Art. My focus has evolved over time from abstraction to exploring the detail of imagery… and people. For more information on my work as well as private classes, contact me at wakeupandgo @ yahoo.com.
4 comments:
Ha! I've been there! I like this one a lot.
I'm with John. This one is excellent. Where is it headed?
This feels like most of my dreams, but I'm usually not wearing a track suit.
From Dana's media class:
Jack set his pencil on the piece of paper and froze, again. "Ahg!" he said aloud. The walls of his room echoed the word back to him. "Why can't I start writing?" he thought. Jack closed his eyes and forced his hand to move the pencil. Five minutes later, he opened his eyes and read the words aloud, "Pig, creeped, shoes, Los Angele-Gah!" "It's never been this bad," he thought, "writer's block sucks." His inner writer, bound by Jack's procrastination, couldn't manage to construct a coherent sentence. The proverbial concrete had set. All he could do was run to stand still.
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