I have been thinking a lot about beginnings — thinking back to the time when my desire to paint was brand new. After thirty years I bought a new paint box — a compact box, with a sturdy handle and clean new surfaces. After thirty years’ practicality I thought it was an innocent enough gesture. Let myself feel young, left my artist’s heart feel brand new.
I have four dozen of small panels. I’m ready to explore my own household, survey its common objects and do inventory. To be an anthropologist of my own life strikes me as a very worthy goal. What ordinary things are lying about for my inspection?
I want light, shadows, colors, edges and some in-between-ness of things.
At the top is a painting I made long ago — can be exemplary for me — I painted a leaf from my yard and a farmer’s apple. The tree that made the leaf is gone now and a garden has taken its place.