Just as there are eight intervals in an octave so there are limited number of ways a mother can hold a baby and if I were to paint a mother and child I would invariably be referencing previous paintings since every permutation of mother and child must have been done but what will make mine unique is the expression in the context of my narrative.
There is no visible demonstrable truth that is unveiled when a surface is distressed and a patina released, when the line is blurred to invisibility challenging the viewer to perform reconstructive surgery. The satisfaction of putting something together that came apart a long time ago can be cathartic. A process that allows the viewer to listen to a painting, to indulge the evocation and carry it away with them when they leave. The content being the subject matter presents a freeze frame of a story through which the viewer can go forward or backward to release the story from the present. A pleasant picture is ultimately satisfying.
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