this one is hardest for me visually. there feels like the pieces are floating in a thick layer of soup. after seeing the prior images now it reads like that thick layer sitting on top of (covering the image) below. And admist all of this feeling of murky heaviness there is a lightness… like I said initially those piesces look like they are floating freely like- beautiful leave particles in pond scum or zooming farther out like the continents on our planet…
Thomas Bosket
January 30, 2011 at 2:53 pm //
Thanks for the words of…..huh, they are words of….directness? Reportage?!! Well, I am in the pea soup. And these works, or at least the comments they solicited, are clearly where I am now-a-days. A little in a little out. Floating beautiful leaves- IN POND SCUM. Isn’t this life? I was just rereading some of my Yale critiques and it seems I am still in the same place I was then. There are differences of course, but then a great many similarities. And I find comfort when I see an artist has had a consistent interest/focus, but when it has been me I somehow viewed it as stuck or repetitive. I have a different take now. We all seem to be who we R, no matter what we try to do to change. As I said above, yes, some things change, but the root moves very slowly. I am more like a tree than I want to believe.
lillee
January 30, 2011 at 12:55 pm //
this one is hardest for me visually. there feels like the pieces are floating in a thick layer of soup. after seeing the prior images now it reads like that thick layer sitting on top of (covering the image) below. And admist all of this feeling of murky heaviness there is a lightness… like I said initially those piesces look like they are floating freely like- beautiful leave particles in pond scum or zooming farther out like the continents on our planet…
Thomas Bosket
January 30, 2011 at 2:53 pm //
Thanks for the words of…..huh, they are words of….directness? Reportage?!! Well, I am in the pea soup. And these works, or at least the comments they solicited, are clearly where I am now-a-days. A little in a little out. Floating beautiful leaves- IN POND SCUM. Isn’t this life? I was just rereading some of my Yale critiques and it seems I am still in the same place I was then. There are differences of course, but then a great many similarities. And I find comfort when I see an artist has had a consistent interest/focus, but when it has been me I somehow viewed it as stuck or repetitive. I have a different take now. We all seem to be who we R, no matter what we try to do to change. As I said above, yes, some things change, but the root moves very slowly. I am more like a tree than I want to believe.