Last week, I had the table all set for my book club. (Ha! I won't show you what it looks like now- you can't even see the table top because of all the junk that's piled there) The highlight of the afternoon was when Rhys walked past, stopped to get a closer look at the table runner, and declared, "It's art!" I'm glad to know that his life till now (all 4 and a half years of it!) has included enough art that he recognized abstract painting as "art". And indeed, the runner is a compilation of two of my college paintings- I was exploring the qualities of letting the paint move on its own by manipulating the unstretched canvas and treating it with different products that affected the paint. The painting on the wall behind the table was done by actually draping and stuffing the canvas in the cracks of rocks and pouring and dripping the paint on top, then letting it flow where it would. I don't actually remember painting the canvases on the runner, but I think I did it in a similar manner. Ah, art. I miss doing it.
1 comment:
I have always loved the colors in the picture on the wall by the dining room table. Now I know the rest of the story! Mary Belle
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