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Never, never, never - Advice from my mother |
Where these came from I do not know and where I am going with them remains to be seen. This is a departure from my heavy emphasis on textile and installation art over the past few years, but immediately feels like a deeply familiar flow zone, where words and images combine. This art safari started as most of mine do; with an experiment. I cut open, crumpled up, soaked, dried, and ironed a brown paper bag. And then...
This first piece is called Never, never never, based on advice from an anxious, fearful woman who did her best to impart warnings and wisdom about life. That advice ranged from never eat on the toilet seat, to never trust any advice from a woman friend.
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Crumpled brown paper bag, water color, pen, colored pencils |
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Close-up |
The next piece is titled Crows as Evidence of a Parallel Universe. There are lots of crows where I live. Every time I see them crying out and tumbling through the sky my heart wants to leap out of my chest.
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Crows as Evidence of a Parallel Universe |
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Close-up |
And finally (for now) we have The Day Mr. Kikkith Floated Out to Sea. Here I experienced another revelation: when activities are happening in parallel, the narrative needn't be linear. It doesn't matter in which order you read the words on this page. And from another angle there is no need to read them at all.
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The Day Mr. Kikkith Floated Out to Sea |
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Close-up |
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Close-up |
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Close-up |