Often when I am out of the studio and around the city, I notice colour, especially hot pink. It is a symbol of happiness for me. This day on the sidewalk behind the gallery, I rush to take a photo of this matching mother and child. I need to rush to cross the street to capture it. As I look up, the cop on the bicycle to the right is watching me. I watch them, they watch me. This is the life of an artist and flaneuse, making art in the between spaces of the gallery and the street.
The painting would not come together. The idea was clear. The execution was not. Colours, shapes, glazes were painted over again and left for more inspiration. Small but mighty this painting lived on. Layers added here and there. A figure, in fact only a woman’s head low on the picture plane, viewed a waterfront landscape. There was a lamppost, a bridge, and several easel shapes on the tiny 8” x 8” birch panel.
Some ideas cannot be enfleshed. They are delicate, fleeting, yet so powerful. This work now has a layered landscape of knitting attached removing all evidence of the woman. Yet she remains. The waterfront and her image in it live on, hidden under the knitting. There is something about it – an atmosphere, a choice of colour, which draws me to prayer. Is this a contemporary icon?
When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. Book of I Corinthians