30+ years of paintings, talked about one painting at a time: what went into the paintings, what I was trying to say, what was happening at the time of my life that I made the paintings. The paintings themselves are narrative, and this adds a little more to the story that they tell.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Snake 2014(El Dorado)
Although my mother has serious problems with her memory, at 85, she's a rockin' lady. A few days ago Mom and I decided to go for a walk with the dogs. We started out, my dog running loose and Mom's dog, Abbey, on a leash with me at one end and Abbey at the other. My mother lives on the outskirts of Santa Fe in a community called El Dorado. The homes are spaced on one acre lots, and there is open space between the houses, with a well worn trail trail running through it. The weather was fairly mild, but a little windy, it being spring in New Mexico. Unused to the high desert, my dog was constantly having to stop his forward motion to pull cactus spines out of his paws. We'd been out for about 45 minutes, and had just reached the asphalt road, looping back to her house, when we spotted a snake on the tarmac. He looked alive, and there was no evidence of "smush", which usually lets me know it's road kill. Mom and I advanced cautiously, the dogs completely unaware of the snake. However, it didn't move, and, since I noticed a lack of a rattle on it's tail, I felt comfortable getting close. Meanwhile, Mom rustled around on the side of the road and found a stick which she then proceeded to (lightly) touch the snake with. No reaction, so we knew it was dead. My camera was back at her house, and Mom, knowing that I wanted to photograph the snake, urged me to go on ahead without her. I took off with both dogs, walking rapidly, thinking the house was close, but in fact, it was another mile. By the time I located my camera and checked my settings, Mom was back at the house, eager to go back with me to photograph the beautiful snake we had both found.