Sunday, May 25, 2008
The end suddenly arrived; unnoticed and unsolicited. It brought with it the usual mourning of what was...or wasn't. By coincidence, a friend sent the above lines from Stevens that provided no solace, but some understanding.
My work leans towards the autobiographical. My camera provides the raw material which I process with drawing, paint, and collage. I love collage because it allows randomness. I begin with an image or object and react to it with paint, pencil, or glue. I pause, rework, cut, glue again, more paint, re-photograph, re-collage, scan and rework. I peel and sandwich. The image lies on top of its arrangement, not behind in its conception.
Luis Buñuel in his autobiography, My Last Sigh, recalls a visit with his aged mother who no longer recognizes him. He ruminates about memory “…You have to begin to lose your memory, if only in bits and pieces, to realize that memory is what makes our lives. Life without memory is no life at all, just as intelligence without the possibility of expression is not really intelligence. Our memory is our coherence, our reason, our feeling even our action. Without it we are nothing.”