Tuesday, October 24, 2006

brush, brush, brush, brush, brush, brush

Sometimes when you look at an abstract you see whatever you want to see. Everyone finds something different to admire and become lost in. Everyone thinks the artwork speaks only to them. Turn it any which way and it still works. Listen and it will whisper sweet nothings to you and only you. I'm sick of looking at the abstracts - they're okay once in a while, but they'll lead you to distraction if that's all you ever look at. Give me back the Van Goghs and the Sidney Nolans. Let me get lost inside a Matisse for hours, still emerging with my thoughts intact. I don't want those meandering Arshile Gorky paintings in my head no more.

So, I've attempted to avoid being distracted by abstracts, by diving into something so real I can touch.
I've painted the cupboards a deep green that you can't find in the shops - I mixed it myself.
I've painted all the steel cabinets a bloodied crimson.
Sometimes you just need blocks of colour that you can name. Green, red, yellow, brown, white. Here are my bloodied crimson cabinets - and why yes, there they are as clear as day - eveyone else can see them too.
They make the room look amazing - these nameable, touchable (and even smellable) objects. So real you can touch them...
I'm finally making the art room mine.

Now that I've done that - I need another menial task.
One that allows less thought and more action.
I'm tired of the abstract.
I want something real.

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