Whatever I Want It To Be?
Growing up, whenever I asked my dad what a piece of artwork was he would answer, without fail, "It's whatever you want it to be."
Whatever I want it to be?
Discussing what I see, determining how color works to inform one thing or another, making my own decisions and deciding why I feel that way.... "whatever" made a big impression on me. My personal feeling is that each person viewing a piece of art is influenced (often unbeknownst to them) by their past experiences. Where they came from, how they grew up, the rules in their household, their first job, lost and found loves - the spectrum of life. This is the magic of art! One piece can touch a million different people in a million different ways.
It fascinates me how a group of people can look at one piece of my work and see and feel such different things; each person creating their own narrative in the moment. I have often stood aside and listened to passersby interpret my paintings. In some cases, their feelings align with my own experiences and why I'm drawn to the subject matter. Then there are those "honest" folks who respond with, "This is decaying and falling apart, why would anyone want to paint that?" And that's okay. t doesn't hit nearly as hard as those who interpret the opposite intention of the painting, feeling that the latched doors indicate a feeling of being trapped! One person who owned a piece thought that I must feel locked away. This shocked and saddened me. Were they living with this feeling every time they saw the painting on the wall? This moment held a very big lesson for me: letting go. I had to let go of this interpretation and appreciate that everyone is different and each painting that goes out into the world has a life of its own.
At the end of the day, I love that what the viewer sees is informed by their own life experiences. Many times people will look at my art and be reminded of some small detail at their cottage, or a memory at their grandparents' farm or childhood home. That spark of the memory is the key; it's when the magic happens. It's not the object in the painting so much as the memories the viewer relates to it. It's the time and space in their lives that opened, unlocked, coaxed to the surface; spurred by this one small painting of one small, ordinary object. An object that played such a small part in the memory - Munchkin Number 6 in the ensemble - that they never really stopped to think about before. Yet without this Munchkin, the Lollypop Guild dance is uneven and Dorthy's welcome is forever incomplete.
Oddly enough, we don't think about doors, handles, or latches. Yet we physically touch them on a daily basis. For me, they imply safety, trust, family... my list is long. Doors offer an invitation to enter. In my mind, it's a temptation to grow, learn, and push yourself, as a human, to be the best you can be. This is something done alone. The only person I am in competition with is myself. And the best part about these old doors, with their peeling paint and rusted latches, is that they swing both ways. You don't need to leave behind the space you are in now just because you walk through to broaden your mind and experiences.