lauren's doll
3/3
i took a real walk down memory lane today and got trapped there for a while. i was looking for a drawing i had done as a child; i can picture it still, in its spiral bound pad, but inspite of my intense archiving system and hours of searching, it didn't turn up.
but what i did find swept me away... back up the river into other life times:
basically every other piece of art work i remember having saved from my childhood, and then some: strange little sketches, elaborate doodles, precise pen and ink flowers, wild & haunted collages, much the same range as how i work now.
my father's will, his sketches of pocket details and lapels, a formal proposal to bring his business public: type written in courrier, looking now so inconsequential in the simplicity of its formatting.
a manilla envelope crammed with letters, each one pages and pages long, written in tiny handwriting, in pencil on legal pads and folded into sixths and stuffed into envelopes that were too small. these from the first person i fell madly and completely in love with.
a box of memories that i would never want to revisit, which of course i did, allowing the old hurts to open up into fresh wounds.
a collection of collages that i made from the walls of my darkroom before i tore it out to make more space to paint. i had literally collaged one half of the room with everything from sardine tin lids to flattened boxes to ribbon to maps to photos to postcards to dried flowers to stickers to labels to club passes, etc., etc., etc. i had carefully taken this material off the walls and made 7 14 x 17" collages from it, that represented what was there, which was basically 10 years of my life.
i am such a pack rat.
i took a real walk down memory lane today and got trapped there for a while. i was looking for a drawing i had done as a child; i can picture it still, in its spiral bound pad, but inspite of my intense archiving system and hours of searching, it didn't turn up.
but what i did find swept me away... back up the river into other life times:
basically every other piece of art work i remember having saved from my childhood, and then some: strange little sketches, elaborate doodles, precise pen and ink flowers, wild & haunted collages, much the same range as how i work now.
my father's will, his sketches of pocket details and lapels, a formal proposal to bring his business public: type written in courrier, looking now so inconsequential in the simplicity of its formatting.
a manilla envelope crammed with letters, each one pages and pages long, written in tiny handwriting, in pencil on legal pads and folded into sixths and stuffed into envelopes that were too small. these from the first person i fell madly and completely in love with.
a box of memories that i would never want to revisit, which of course i did, allowing the old hurts to open up into fresh wounds.
a collection of collages that i made from the walls of my darkroom before i tore it out to make more space to paint. i had literally collaged one half of the room with everything from sardine tin lids to flattened boxes to ribbon to maps to photos to postcards to dried flowers to stickers to labels to club passes, etc., etc., etc. i had carefully taken this material off the walls and made 7 14 x 17" collages from it, that represented what was there, which was basically 10 years of my life.
i am such a pack rat.
