Many artists throughout history have very publicly gone through different movements.
Some meticulously worked through realism before venturing into cubism or surrealism or even something without a label. Often they returned to their first love, but sometimes... just sometimes... they discovered their new movement.
So it's no wonder that I've been wandering around a bit on the creative front.
When I first ventured into painting, I did whatever my heart desired. I played- just like a child. And with it came that childish joy that abandons us over time.
When I was old enough to venture into the world and its museums, I discovered the greats. Basically everything The Tate Britain and New York Museums contained. Then I began to see what the the tri-state area galleries decorated their walls with and how often those very galleries had full page ads and editorials in all the art magazines of Barnes and Noble. I desired to make that stuff that excited me beyond words. I did my best to capture the reality before me and enjoyed it. I wanted there to be no question what the viewer was seeing. I still love trying to capture reality. But whether it is age, life, the world we live in...I have a desire to make inexplicable marks. Not abstraction, mind you. I love my figures. But there is more to a figure than the bones and flesh... there is an aura and an energy that is just as important in telling the story.
So I've spent the last few weeks finishing up little oil paintings I've had lying around in various stages. Though I was often pleased with the final results, I felt something was amiss. Like a whisper (or sometimes a scream) I could hear it- I just couldn't see it.
So please excuse the artist you know and have come to love as I play around with what may be some hits (and no doubt many misses).
I'm obviously in my mid-life crisis phase. ( Where is my sports car and toupee???!!!!!)
Here is a preview of some of the pieces I finished up before the slight shift (but familiar). They will be available at Studio B this week. More details will follow on Instagram.
Some meticulously worked through realism before venturing into cubism or surrealism or even something without a label. Often they returned to their first love, but sometimes... just sometimes... they discovered their new movement.
So it's no wonder that I've been wandering around a bit on the creative front.
When I first ventured into painting, I did whatever my heart desired. I played- just like a child. And with it came that childish joy that abandons us over time.
When I was old enough to venture into the world and its museums, I discovered the greats. Basically everything The Tate Britain and New York Museums contained. Then I began to see what the the tri-state area galleries decorated their walls with and how often those very galleries had full page ads and editorials in all the art magazines of Barnes and Noble. I desired to make that stuff that excited me beyond words. I did my best to capture the reality before me and enjoyed it. I wanted there to be no question what the viewer was seeing. I still love trying to capture reality. But whether it is age, life, the world we live in...I have a desire to make inexplicable marks. Not abstraction, mind you. I love my figures. But there is more to a figure than the bones and flesh... there is an aura and an energy that is just as important in telling the story.
So I've spent the last few weeks finishing up little oil paintings I've had lying around in various stages. Though I was often pleased with the final results, I felt something was amiss. Like a whisper (or sometimes a scream) I could hear it- I just couldn't see it.
So please excuse the artist you know and have come to love as I play around with what may be some hits (and no doubt many misses).
I'm obviously in my mid-life crisis phase. ( Where is my sports car and toupee???!!!!!)
Here is a preview of some of the pieces I finished up before the slight shift (but familiar). They will be available at Studio B this week. More details will follow on Instagram.
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| If Only Ophelia had a Takashi Murakami bouquet instead by rachel jones |
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| 10:15 Saturday Night by rachel jones |
There is a Story about the one below, but I shall save that for another day.
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| Last Dance by rachel jones |
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