Thanks, credits, and wishes:
This series of paintings was inspired by interaction with people at Christopher House, a wonderful, caring hospice for individuals with terminal illnesses. The exhibit featured artwork by myself in addition to Tamara Reynolds, Brian Hollingsworth, Barbara Atwell, and Nina Jolly, and original writing by Joe O'Connell, Chinwe Odeluga, Neil Orts, and Terry Sawyer. It was displayed at Flatbed Galleries in July of 2001, and may potentially tour to other sites. The exhibit was the idea of Benné Rockett, director of Opening Closed Doors, who collaborated with Ramona Cearley of Borderlands Texas Poetry Review to produce the final product. Many thanks to the families I worked with, the staff members of Christopher House, and to my fellow artists.
Here are some thoughts and explanations on this series of paintings, in case it makes the work more meaningful for anyone. I do not mean to supplant your own impressions or feelings with my own, or to represent these comments as the totality of even my own thoughts, (God knows I didn't have it all exactly planned out while I painted it!), or to puff up the importance of my artwork through pompous proclamations, but I find that people often seek a little guidance. So here you go:
Concepts and Techniques:
I began using a honeycomb pattern in my work around February 2001, although social insects - particularly those that sting - have long been a subject of interest. The hive is such a good metaphor for the intense activity and pattern of human civilization. In the "Giving Voice and Vision" series, I have incorporated gold leaf into the honeycomb design to offer a sense of holiness and preciousness beyond the everyday, as seen in Christian icon painting, Tibetan prayer scrolls or Islamic holy texts. In all the religious traditions that I am aware of, the time of dying takes on special significance, perhaps because it brings us to a sharp awareness of how limited a commodity our time on earth as individuals, and our time with loved ones, actually is. Living with an awareness of death is painful, and yet the pain brings excruciating beauty in making clear the need to live brightly! and well!
Change comes
in broken window diamonds
a hit-and-run gift
On the panels, I have painted subjects that I intuitively felt were related in an emotional or spiritual sense to the dying process. The human embryo depicted in "Rebirth" represents to me the other side of the life cycle, which is one with death. I was pleased by how it looked like a holy icon! In "All my birds have flown" I have painted a left-behind feather to represent a feeling of lightness, of emptiness, of waiting in a moment of timelessness for the next moment to finally happen. In "With you by my side, I can make it through…even this" I have represented the physical connections of nerve cells in a somewhat smeared state, representing mental difficulties brought on by illness and medication, while the hand clasp below - a different type of connection - remains firm and real. On a personal note, I recall in this painting how I held my (adoptive) father's hand as he died - a moment both painful and precious to me. He helped me make it through his own death. In "Finality" I have used a simple line painting of a skull to represent the inevitable truth of physical decay. How painful to think the face of the person you love, now become a skull! And yet this too is part of a cycle which we must accept if we are to accept the gift of life. "The Unknown" was particularly difficult for me: the artist's urge to fill every space must be strongly related to fear of the unknown. I had to muster my courage to leave the simple black rectangle in the center undefined.
The spare execution of the line paintings is intended to be a contrast to the lively lushness I have tried to develop beneath. I first thinly applied washes of oil paint, allowing the white panel to show through the paint to create the lights, rather than adding white. The fiery cadmium reds and sweet pinks and umber-violets and smoky blacks are fleshy, human, living colors - and besides, I just like them. A traditional gold leafing glue was selectively applied to the pattern in the honeycomb, and composite leaf applied to the entire surface. The leaf stuck to the adhesive sometimes more, sometimes less than to the still-sticky paint. The leaf itself comes in small squares, which creates a - to my eyes - pleasant looking grid. I burnished, dissolved, buffed, and abraded the leaf to reveal the pattern and the color below. I added a thin rubbed glaze of white to areas of some of the pieces, and a light wash of color on one, to bring them to a state of completion.