Thursday, July 31, 2008

Fallen Glad

Fallen Glad
Someone long before had planted her too far in the shade.
She found herself blossoming when she stretched
searching for the sun.
In her peak and all her glory
she began to fall from grace.
It was sad to see her severed and
broken at the base.
I know someone who her rescued her.
I saw her beauty in a vase.
She seeks the sun again
yet, in a different place.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Serendipity


Serendipity
9 x 12
gouache
on paper


I will be adding this one to my greeting card shop.
Tomorrow we close on our house.
I don't know how current I can be with blog posting for the next week or so.
We are going to paint a few rooms and most importantly get my studio ready.
Our household goods are still in transit.
I am so excited, I can't stand it!
You can look through my archives during this time.
Talk soon-MB

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Roots

Roots
9 x 12
gouache
on paper

The gnarled roots of a tree she saw
reminded her of her legs.
Her legs,
her own trunk that used to be so strong.
Now 40 years and then 1
they're sagging near the knees.
Tiny violet lines are tributaries
to a river that once ran wild.
Countless scars are trophies
from athletic days gone by.
Yet the tree still stands.
Ready to take root,
branching out again.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Communication


A future civilization may attempt to translate our method of crack prevention like discovering an archaic language that is no longer used. What if this is all they have to go by?..............

Friday, July 11, 2008

Fortune


Light
9 x12
gouache
collage
on paper

We ordered Chinese the other night and my fortune cookie said that my heart will make itself known through my words.
A comment on yesterday's post asked if I included my writings with my art when I sell them.
With my fortune cookie in mind, I wonder if I am limiting myself by allowing you to know the stories behind the work. At what point does the work become a literal illustration?
I believe the joy of abstract work lies in the freedom of interpretation . We all see things differently.
So the answer is no. No, I do not include the writings when I send work to my agents. I am only sharing this with you on my blog.
It's like a visual diary, so to speak.
With that in mind, today's painting is about light.
Since all my supplies are still somewhere in transit, in limbo, or purgatory; I am working with this little set of opaque watercolors. I cannot achieve the level of contrast with them as I would like. I ran out of white and was too lazy to go get more. This painting is about light in low contrast with barely any white.
You see, sometimes it's better not to know the story behind the art.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Limbo


Limbo
9 x12
gouache
on paper
I once knew a man who could limbo. Imagine my surprise the first time I saw him contort his 6ft. 2 inch frame neatly under a broomstick held just a few feet above the ground.
He said it was all about control.
I later found out he had issues, control issues.
That was the day I carelessly placed a salad fork in the dinner fork slot of the utensil drawer.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Exposed I and II

Exposed I
and II
9X12
Gouache
on paper

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Exposed


Coveted
Covers
Exposed man holes
New street crime
Now vulnerable
Open and raw

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Souvenir


I’ve read that dreams about losing your teeth are very common. They symbolize a fear of change and transition. Twice this week and it’s only Wednesday, I was awoken in a state of panic. Tempering my fear with a quick roll of my tongue I count each tooth to see if they're there.
This dream is too real.
Last night a crazy dentist in a dim lit basement was fitting me for dentures. There was no other alternative. I wasn’t even a candidate for those porcelain veneers, the ones I call "Hollywood Teeth".
I held on tightly to the bits of broken teeth in the palm of my hand as the crazy dentist began to drill. I then thrust them deeply into a pocket, perhaps as a souvenir or a reminder of what once was.
Memories are like broken bits of bone or shards of being.
You can thrust them deep down into your pockets , but how comforting they are to retrieve.
Transition is as scary as a dentist's drill.