36’x48″ Silk on linen, cotton and metallic floss and thread
Explanation of my spelling of “Premenpausal”: I was thinking about an archetypal female experience. Menopause is an opportunity to “pause” as we rethink what it means to be female, and how we, without the very insistent push from hormones, relate physically to the “men” we love.
This morning because I felt the need to be restored to center, I found myself listening to Terry Riley’s “IN C”, and re reading from “Susan McClary “Rap, Minimalism and Structures of Time in Late Twentieth-Century Culture.” in Audio Culture, Daniel Warner, ed, Continuum International Publishing Group, 2004, pp 289 – 298.” (Yes, I guess I am a little geeky when it comes to my reading habits). What struck me, although I am using it out of context, is her phrase “subjective struggle toward triumph”.
Repetition and geometry have helped me “center” (thus avoiding struggle) over my whole lifetime: saying the Rosary, looking carefully at the elegant design of flowers, dancing, taking joy in understanding equations, and being attentive to the comfort I find in the structure of Minimalistic music. The exhaustion from my strong emotional response to the pain and brokenness in society as the sides “struggle toward triumph”, has directed me back to the nurture I find in the cyclic repetition and geometry of the music of Terry Riley.
8.5″x11″ Canson Museum Rag, archival inks
8.5″ x 11″ archival inks on Canon Matt Photo Paper
Sometimes I just can’t take any more “News” This is my painfilled emotional response to the Rayshard Brooks killing.
Canson Matte paper, archival inks 8.5″x11″
Trying to order the chaos in a way that I find more interesting and less painful. That this takes the form of a leaf with suggestions of the organic, reveals my belief that as they say in Jurassic Park, “Life will find a way.”
8.5″x11″ Archival Inks on Canson Museum Rag paper
Some days really are easier than others.
Silk on silk, hemp twine, cotton thread 30″x40″
After watching a political debate on TV
8.5″x11″ Archival inks on Canson Museum Rag paper
For the one who thinks he is King. I just had to get out my disdain for one whose name I will not say out loud. When I draw, it makes me feel like I’m letting off steam.
My response to finding the love of my life, my soul-mate Mark, across a crowded room over 40 happy years ago.
16″x20″ Silk on polyester, metallic and cotton thread and floss
