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Art cannot be forced, that I know. When I create pieces I'm content with, it's usually because I've walked away from it for a day to let it just be. I'll come back to it to see if it's telling me it needs more. Words. Layers. Paint. Imagery. Sometimes it does, but sometimes, lately, I've been drawn to NOT pairing my pieces with found poetry. Part of me just wants to let it speak for itself, and let the viewer come to their own interpretation, even when I know what it represents for me.
When I create a piece I'm happy with, I usually feel like I've been building upon it for the last 15 years, when I started my exploration of creative processes. In an attempt to solidify my visual voice & be more consistent in my overall work, I've been revisiting my works from earlier years. Most of the pieces I'm happy with reflect my style from those bygone years. It's ingrained in me. Texture. Photography.Various art processes. Exploring always. Of course, I've learned a few ways of incorporating imagery that help me go deeper into my layers (both metaphorically and physically).
I remember taking the above photograph either last winter or the winter before, while out on a walk. The first words that came to my mind were "bare boned branches." Yes, it relates to the way our beloved tree branches are left naked and vulnerable in the winter months, but also how I've been feeling lately. Raw. Stripped. Exposed. Overwhelmed. Needing some leaf-love (comfort) at times.
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