Tuesday, October 19, 2010

gunpowder and wax


I took what I did on Sunday and added some color. Warm and cool - sun and shade kind of thing. I added more gunpowder. Alot of fun at night. I didn't have to worry about the smoke being seen; instead, just a large blast of fire. HA!
Then I poured wax on it. And scraped. and scraped. even made holes (aka Burri). I love the idea of beating up a canvas and seeing what lasts. Playing with what stays and what remains behind. Here is a statement that I wrote regarding removal:
The physical articulation of mark making directly relates to the temporal condition and creates a dialog why marks were left behind and why those marks should be coveted. By allowing for the accidental, unplanned physical mark making, I create a sensation of ephemeral in my work. It indicates a passage of time and change; metaphorically, it becomes statement of my own mortality.
Not only am I concerned about my mortality but also I have concerns with how much damage can a thing stand before it falls it apart. Without getting biographically, how much scraping, burning, cutting, piling, pouring can the heart and soul with stand before collapse? Not always emotionally, but physically as well. As I age, how much changes inside of me? As I work, I wonder more and more the WHY do I work? What did I pick up paint? Why gunpowder? Is it enough to say I love color and gunpowder?

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