even what I make from steel will suffer the passage of time and succumb to the elements, rusting into the earth from which I found it. Like ice sculptures they will exist in memory only and then become a dream extinguished by the morning glare. I know that. It is an artists' futile attempt at immortality, creating something larger than life. Leaving behind traces in the sand to say "I was there"! I saw it and loved it even if I didn't understand it all.
My acrylic art is even shorter lived as I make no pretence of saving it at all. My paintings are photographed and transformed into the digital world of cyber space. I don't know what happens to them, looked at by others, maybe copied like stolen kisses, or glanced at and forgotten. They are lost loves into a nether world, out of reach and out of control or persuasion.
I keep them or copies of them like love letters in a box. They become a part of my diary.
They are experiences not captureable, a flicker in time. Sometimes I look back on them with amazement, astonished at how close I came. Other times I realize I have a long way to go. And all the time, pleased with myself for keeping a record, never timid, always shouting: "I was here and I did that!"
2 comments:
What is this image I'm seeing here. A naked picture of you? Oh Jerry spare me the detalis.. thats ok' !!
As to your art.. I know they are temporary... when are you going to do somthing permanent.? I'm waiting to see something with a frame around it.
On the flipside of that ~ when you create something and someone buys it, it's never to be seen by you again, you can't hold it in real time. It kind of makes me sad, because they took a part of me that I can never get back and they don't even know it. They don't know how I felt, how I struggled, in fact they didn't think at all about that part. They only see the object. So perhaps it's the same as it disappearing into something else. Funny, but sometimes I truly hate selling my art!
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