Yet another girl to add to the collection.
So I was drawing this little lady today, trying to think why I'm doing such frivolous work. I'm making a catalogue of 40s Sears Roebuck catalog girls and zoo and farm animals. I am working in my studio on woodland scenes (CT woods!) with food deposits and silent offerings. What the hell am I doing?
Well, not pouring paint. Not caving in to the romantic urge to replace religion with art making and viewing. The musuem as temple or mausoleum, no more! The pour or splatter is not longer an apparation in my world. The pour, the splatter, the shaped color, no longer a stand in for the bodily and the ether, the toxic explosion and the apparition, a cipher for bodily movement and its excretions, a rote for faux inspiration and a mere excuse to take on "I am nature." And yet, so appealing is the urge to talk to that kind of romaticism. Maybe I should be caving in. I think I might. I don't want to be coy or someone-forbid snarky! And supposedly irony is dead, so what have I left but absurdist romanticism and action.
Well, I have archive-building. But now I have a way to deal with these archive images. Central casting. I hope to cast drawings and paintings from these archive drawings. So we shall see. There may be humor and irony in the juxtaposition of different cast elements, but all shall be painted with straightforwardness in the archive. This makes me feel more honest.