I posted this the other day in response to a thread on "authenticity." It just sort of flew out of the keyboard. I think it might be my artist statement.
I was about 18 when I took my first painting class. I was told I needed to find something to paint about. That tripped me up because I kept trying to find "something" and I didn't understand "about". My first painting was of a pair of Mardi Gras beads and sunglasses. It felt pretty empty at the time, but I was 18 and that's who I was. I kept painting and I kept looking for something to paint about. It took me awhile to realize that that the constant searching was not just part of the work, but that it was the work. 25+ years later, I'm still searching. Life happens. The process of painting is an ongoing narrative. Not only within each painting, but in the bigger picture (no pun intended.) Sometimes it's lame, sometimes its a failure. Sometimes it's shallow. Sometimes it's beautiful and funny, or tries to be heroic, and sometimes it's sad and painful. I have no idea. That's about as authentic as it's going to get for me.
And here's a good one.
I'm flying to Nashville tomorrow morning. I had a student tonight who had never heard of Nashville. Like she had no idea what state it was located in. She's in college. She said she had never heard of David Bowie either.
That painting of the Mardi Gras beads and sunglasses is still in Nashville. It's stored behind a bookcase. Shows absolutely no promise, but I kept it anyway. I'll try and take a picture of it. After which, I'll try and talk myself into uploading it.