Learning My Lines

I have not stopped to smell the roses in weeks, and I'm starting to resemble a day-walker zombie, having slept very little since work has picked up its pace. I wish it was my painting that I'm referring to, but sadly, it's not. Coincidentally, and rather symbolically, the project that I am working overtime on at work will be over the day before my Open Studios show on Friday, April 23. I cannot wait to get some semblance of normality back into my life! Those roses need to be smelled. I can't loose touch with them.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: despite the madness that is my working hours at the moment, my new creations continue to please me, which is unusual to me in times of stress. Normally, my pieces tend to aggravate me, throwing me into my proverbial pit of despair when I am working in "emergency mode" on a strict deadline. Deadlines drive me up the wall. Not a pretty picture at all.

So this body of work is igniting some new flames in my repertoire and thinking. I have been out of my comfort zone and playing with line work. I cannot stop the linear evolution taking place in every piece of my portfolio. I don't know where the urge is coming from, but lines seem to be the theme throughout. Playful, colorful, pattern-making lines that bring forth some sense of a grid system, without serving much of a scientific purpose at all. I like that. A subterfuge, if you will. An empty system. Lines usually represent logic, correlation and directness--paths that tend to lead to some kind of truth. Well, mine are just there to please the eye and trick the brain. It's still very much a mystery to me where all this is going; but hey, like Murakami said: " I have no interest in conclusions".