I envision an inflated bag standing over a prone, deflated bag. I imagine piled body-bags, bags crowded together joyously in celebration, or a single lonely bag. I feel love and loss, and the whole trajectory from indifference to immediacy to intimacy and back again.
Maybe that's strange: a "portrait" of bags. Why not? If it means I'll care more about the project, and really put my all into it, then it can't be that crazy.
20 thumbnail sketches due by next Tuesday. Hopefully I'll have something raw and conceptual that will want to be painted so desperately, that when I'm finished, I will stand back and ask, "Oh my god, did I paint that?"
I feel a little ridiculous. I'm falling in art-love with paper bags.
This must be what you would call dorking-out.
(completed painting) updated 10/27. I just had crit. today, and got a really good feedback. Also it was said to have drama; so I think my metaphor carried through.
No comments:
Post a Comment