Showing posts with label series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label series. Show all posts

Thursday, January 20, 2011

stained glass

These pieces will be among those featured in my solo show, opening February 5, at The Harrison Gallery in Williamstown, MA.  The show will hang until the end of the month.

Chalice, 24 x 24 inches, available at The Harrison Gallery

Two Shakers, 22 x 20 inches, available at The Harrison Gallery
The reference images for both of these pieces were shot at the Crossroads Country Mall in Lima, NY (see my previous post for more information).  Mike and I made a trip specifically to shoot reference images on a blisteringly hot Saturday afternoon.  The [non-air-conditioned] store was busy, and I am deeply glad that I managed to get a series of shots--which included standing on chairs and moving small, fragile merchandise with my slippery hands, often while holding my cell phone in my mouth--without damaging anything, including myself!  Other [overheated, cranky] customers were looking at us a little strangely (especially after Mike put on the big feathered hat).  When we got back outside and reviewed the photos, we did a little happy dance right there on the sidewalk.  These two paintings are the first results from that trip.  Each one took over two weeks to paint--an exercise in patience for not-so-patient me!

All content ©2011 Kimberly Denise. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

apples again?

I'm drawn to working in series. I'll often have a whole series planned and sketched with reference photos.... I paint one or two and get distracted by some other subject. But then in time I find myself coming back to my neglected series and working some more. There's an interesting tidal quality to the pattern. I just sit back and watch.

I don't tend to find any deep meaning in my series. There's no symbolism, no allegory, no whatever. It's more a communion with the objects and the play of light, and the way anything takes on a kind of sacredness if you look at it long enough. An apple ceases to be just an apple and becomes a living, breathing piece of something far greater than myself. I think that's what this is about for me--breathlessly seeking, again and again, that unspoken connection with the divine.

So I'll probably paint a lot more apples.