I was going through a closet at my parents’ house, in the back room that was mostly my dad’s domain.  I was very curious what he had squirreled away over the years, and I found plenty of junkque to be sure, but I was very surprised to find hidden away at the bottom of the closet a bunch of drawings I made my first year in college (that would be during the Jurassic period for any geologists reading this).  Thank you, Dad.

Woaw.  It’s like going back in time and meeting yourself.  I found stuff I didn’t remember ever making, as for instance this collage above.  And the collages (there were three of them) were especially intriguing because I thought that my interest in making pictures by cutting up and gluing bits of paper was of fairly recent vintage, but I see that I was doing the Matisse thing for about as long as I’ve been an artist and long before my love affair with Henri.

7 thoughts on “The Real Me

  1. Ce tableau m’a tout de suite rappellé Magritte.
    C’est vrai qu’on ne change pas beaucoup au cours des années, on raffine.
    Trés beau collage et trés belle histoire

  2. So much goes past, the art is like a record in which you can see the real you, and perhaps we catch glimpses of the real you through it, in they way it is made and the themes you choose. It is a question I do not want to think about anymore. Your blog is beautiful and so is your art.

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