The Ward No. 8

Busy these days working on my show at Strata Gallery in Elora, opening on November 22. For deets click this.

Here's a recent piece I've titled, ingeniously, "The Ward No. 8." Took me a while to get it right.  Actually, "right" might not be the right word but I've given 'er all I have for what it is. Knowing when to stop is a tricky thing, more about running out of options and feeling fatigued than a bell that goes ding-ding. I guess as an artist it's inevitable you have to live with doubt and as the saying goes, the only thing we fear more than death is uncertainty.

But enough Plato. Originally in this piece there was a figure in the foreground covering about half the scene, sketched out loosely so as not to detract too much from everything else. Then I erased the dude and for a long time had nobody. Then the light was screwy so I reworked that. Then I re-added a figure, but smaller. Then the greens looked neon lit...aghh!

I finished it quickly and threw it up on the wall, but there, visible - like a haunted portrait whose eyes follow you - it talked to me, taunting, tormenting. So down it came. I turned it around and put it in the dunce corner. I guess I'll turn it back around in a week and hopefully, by then, it will have clammed up.

The Ward No. 8
36" x 36"
Mixed media on panel

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