How to Assemble the Kite is the other one. Eleven drawn, cubed, and liberally applied to one seventy-nine.
I like the process of melding these identities. The mixing of fragments to an ordered fashion. Steps faithfully followed and applied to canvas. Its structure, a guiding principle, woven into the fabric of transformation.
It started with the temporary sculptures. Mostly small assembled groups of things, digitally documented, the pieces dispersed. Now the parts stay together. Stories collected, intermingled and named. Machine painting the end of time and the hole to fall into.
Improbable alliances. A twig with thorns and quail egg in a bottle cap. A thicket captured in digital amber. A scrap of rough sawn wood. A cube and fragment of twisted wire. A cup “borrowed” from Donna’s recent efforts, filled by a game’s protagonist and a chain to bind. Well . . . the egg broke and so did the twig . . . and the wire, and what started as a playful exercise morphed into a full on project. I think of them as story telling, collaborations of histories, precursors to the paintings. Dimensional sketches to enlighten the illusions of paint.
Yikes. Thirty five, six actually thirty seven days since the first Tuesday in September and nine since the first one in October. I’m behind. It’s been an odd bunch of weeks that focused my attentions elsewhere, yet still on my list and underlined . . . It Happens Every Tuesday, (Monthly). Only this time it’s a bit off pace and with a selection of images attempting to capture the passing of those days.
To the folks who inquired about the missing posts of It Happens Every Tuesday . . . my sincere thanks for your continued interest in the work!