July 12, 2008

"I Met Andy Warhola"
1998
acrylic on linen
30" x 36"
Occasionally I get an idea for a painting from a non-important observation of human nature or something I find silly. Several years ago I had a conversation with an acquaintance, trading stories of career and family. I was very excited about having one of my paintings hung at the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh and shared this information with her. She then told me a happenstance she had with Andy Warhol in New York on an icy night many years ago. Both Andy and my acquaintance were walking with their heads down somewhere on Fifth avenue. They smashed into each other and both landed on their asses. "You're Andy Warhol!" my acquaintance exclaimed. "And you're a bitch" Mr. Warhol retorted.

July 11, 2008

My stretchers arrived and today's the day I begin a new painting except......not enough canvas! The two pieces of hemp/organic cotton canvas I have are too narrow so I order on-line a couple of yards from Near Sea Naturals thus delaying things a few days. Actually this gave me time to think about the painting to be. Would I pick subject A or subject B? Subject A was to be a scene from the Darfur Genocide. The image that comes to my mind when I think of the issues Darfur is facing id a dusty road strew with dead men, women and children and a jeep filled with armed militia driving past the bodies.

I decided to wait on painting this subject until I do a bit of research and form my own vision.

When I was in Washington DC several years ago, my daughter and I visited the Holocaust Museum. There are many memorable visuals in the Museum but the one that struck a cord with me was the pile of shoes. I don't know what it was about this pile of shoes that affected me so deeply. Maybe it's because I can relate to shoes. A majority of the people in the concentration camps did not share ethnic background, religion, generation or nationality yet we all wore/wear shoes. Tonight when I was making my nightly trek through the woods to the berry patch I looked down at my bruised and battered black shoes I thought how similar they looked to the shoes I saw in the pile.