CAIT'S Free-write and Writing on her paintings!
Does memory move?
Does anything move?
I am thinking about animation and the maybe myth of movement.
Amanda frozen in her summer dress, suspended jonquils.
Laura's still animals- possessing light for a moment. A lifetime equalling a million. A multitude of still seconds…
Our human ability to inhabit just one- to stretch it, to pull on it …a choice. A deliberate deer enjoying the hold of the headlights.
A glitch on purpose. A loop of animation- like a ghost in a glue trap.
And I am also including something i wrote about my most recent series of paintings. I sent it to Caitlin earlier, and, as I re-read 'Menagerie' i cant help the two from mixing.
I have been thinking of these portraits as erosions.
I have been thinking of these portraits as a graph through my mind where the things most often rubbed against come through darker.
-Like a grinding plate wearing down grooves of faces and actions -Visiting the same spaces over and over again,
and every time something added or shifted or worn away.
Why is a memory sometimes sharp?
Is the plural of a memory an ache?
Is a picture of movement transparent?
A trick of the eye, a wink of the eye, a flick of the tongue, a smoke smell, a long smell of air.
Who are we holding in our minds as most dear?
Not an individual-
A shifting skeleton whose anatomy arises from the average artifact, whose bones are built from banisters and window frames.
The structures we look through everyday become the bodies of our beloved.
What is associated becomes intrinsic.
Isn't that how we learn?
The things that settle when we sleep-
-things loudest grow taller.
Isn't that how myths are born?
The myth of the other person in your mind-
more closely related to yourself-
-A distant relative of your first memory.
-An angel to early man.
I have been thinking that these portraits are self-portraits.