Super scary huh? Self portrait, a face only a mother could love... well, maybe not.
The inspiration for this was Picasso's "the Village Dance". I had not seen the painting for many years, but I had been thinking of a trip to Paris where I had seen this painting maybe 20 years ago. I remembered the heaviness of the eyelids and the solidity of the stares away from each other. Although the painting was the starting point, I had only that vague rememberance of the style and was trying to capture that as a memory, along with the nostalgia of that visit.
This is a sort of artist's statement, but far more boring and long-winded. My current form of blogging is to limit the text to as little as possible. I am lazy when it comes to writing and the blog tends to trickle off when I feel the pressure of having to add words to the pictures. I hung my exhibition yesterday, so today I will ramble a little about the reasoning behind it (and to help me get over the guilt for hardly writing anything in the last couple of months). Please feel free to skip the words and look at the pictures! For a long time after moving to America, I found it difficult to process who I had become and the new meaning of home. I was English, yet found the American "English" language a challenge. This culture that in many ways was similar to my own, is in other ways completely opposite and confusing. I still often experience a shock by a sudden feeling of otherness and a perhaps a reminiscence for the past, yet I relish the possibility of ne...
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