Here's a slightly blurry cellphone photo of a painting from a series I'm working on. I'm painting cats and flowers. I never thought I'd be doing work like this. For years, I made only abstract work with a focus on physical texture and a tendency to straddle the line between painting and sculpture. I had started to work on free-standing sculpture (there are a bunch standing in my studio waiting patiently for my attention) when life exploded in a giant shit-storm.
For the next few years, my productivity sank like an anchor. When I started working again, it was mostly funny little characters--stuff I'd been drawing on the sidewalk with a bunch of people I loved... a couple of whom are no longer with us. I think what's happening is I am embracing something that feels like it will keep me from falling any further into something terrible, and hoping at the same time, it will spread some positivity. Does that explain it? It does to the best of my ability.
Why do I feel a need to explain? It's for my own benefit really. Healing, self-actualization, and all that stuff that makes life seem a little less like a broken ferris-wheel ride at the county fair with your gaslighting significant other.