|Oil on panel, 6" x 6"|
Here's a mini I did in the fall on a trip to San Francisco and only now got framed up.
It's a row of small eucalyptus trees I found between a road and a park, having gotten lost on a walk.
For some reason the shadow cast by a railing and the amputated branch, in that light, spoke to my mood at the moment.
That's the freaky thing about painting, about spending time with something and really taking it in. Agonizing a bit.
The important thing is that later, even much later, the finished work serves as a touchstone, in some sense irrelevant of what it was meant to depict. It revives, so that seeing the work again transports you back to that déjà vu feeling, like a teleporter of the emotional memories.
I look upon this small piece and the way the light was, the noise of cars and an airplane overhead, the slight tinge of citrus in the air, how hungry I was starting to get, and the sweat that couldn't decide what to do on my brow in the mix of sun and breeze and it all comes flooding back.
A photo, especially a digital photo, will never work the same. It's too easy. Not enough of the senses are engaged and so the memory paths aren't formed.
Call me bananas but the way I see it, if you want to forget, take a photo; if you want to remember, sketch, or write, or sing.
$150 + $10 S&H in North America