There is an allure to painting the relatives and friends I never had. They are ciphers for relationships I never had, experiences I never had. I was getting my car fixed Thursday and I pulled out some of the drawings and the source material and started working on them. The woman next to me in the waiting room became fascinated with the process of translating these Victorian and 1940s and 1950s era women into drawings. She invented pasts for them, asked questions of their background, scrutinized each photo looking for place, names, handwriting clues, etc. It was really fascinating to watch. I wanted to make sure I also had a grip on the recent past, so some of my borrowed imagery is now making an appearance. These ladies are awkward in the most endearing ways, wether they are posing over 80 years ago or in a 1990s high school year book. Not June Cleaver or some starlet, I feel at home relinquishing my control of the image to these women.
There is an allure to painting the relatives and friends I never had. They are ciphers for relationships I never had, experiences I never had. I was getting my car fixed Thursday and I pulled out some of the drawings and the source material and started working on them. The woman next to me in the waiting room became fascinated with the process of translating these Victorian and 1940s and 1950s era women into drawings. She invented pasts for them, asked questions of their background, scrutinized each photo looking for place, names, handwriting clues, etc. It was really fascinating to watch. I wanted to make sure I also had a grip on the recent past, so some of my borrowed imagery is now making an appearance. These ladies are awkward in the most endearing ways, wether they are posing over 80 years ago or in a 1990s high school year book. Not June Cleaver or some starlet, I feel at home relinquishing my control of the image to these women.
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