Welcome artists of 2009!
Orange bags are just "au point" with me. Growing up with plastics and synthetics presets an expectation-fires up an ancient memory in the rods and cones of my eyes.
Driving by a demolition or a construction site or a switchyard- the musical notes of cerulean blue plastic tubes, a cobalt blue tarp,orange cones or those safety yellow taped boundaries enliven the whole landscape like trumpets in a jazz ensemble.
Nature has more adventurous color schemes, but they are less obvious in New England-in our malled over suburbs. We are often restrained in our palettes-puritanical.
The folk traditions from Bulgaria to Guatamala festively celebrate life and our ability to perceive
a wide range of hues. The clever crafting of spectral notes in weavings, and throughout the cultures, create vibrations that ride the waves of light directly through our eyes and into our hearts-more healing than money can buy.
In January, in New England, I am like the gleaner in a Millet painting scavenging for shards of light.