Art, an Orchid and Eric
The Bros and I made our annual visit to the New York Botanical Garden’s Orchid Show last week. The inspiration to create that comes from an afternoon spent in splendid beauty
came full circle. Last year I chose white corsage orchids to sketch, take back to the studio, paint as a large expressionistic statement and enlarge again. The second oil is my first attempt at minimalism with only the pure elements of color, light and texture.
Corsage orchids and their special scent take me back to prom night and the agony and thrill of blossoming into womanhood. Life’s beginnings. The irony is that the paintings
are dedicated to Eric, a talented young artist whose demons overtook him as he approached his 30th birthday one year ago. Like many tormented souls who are serious about taking their own life, Eric hid his anguish well, even as he shared his new portfolio.
The motion in these white paintings, with color refracted by a prism, is my attempt to connect with Eric in the days following his jump. I gave my self to him to use as a connection to what he loved, to create. One year later my heart swells for this lovely young man who saw all sides of life and chose the moment of his own death.
Most of us choose to keep going, no matter what. There is pain and pleasure, sorrow and joy, poverty and wealth, war and peace, greed and generosity all co-existing. Honor in death was the motivation for the creation of a new purity in my art.
The scent of sweet sensuality in a corsage orchid takes me back to my beginning. How can I face my own death? The second anniversary of my Dad passing away is this month.
My Mom is like a helpless child. I am advancing in middle age. Death, let me square off with you, so finite. I love life and I don’t want to leave.
My answer is to plunge into the time I have left. As ever, my overwhelming drive and discipline, discipline, discipline get me in front of the easel. Everything and nothing matters and I am transported into layers of transparent consciousness where there is no speculation, only the pure elements of color, light and wonder.
