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Friday, August 15, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Artist Statement 2008 Of Lynn Weatherford
Standing there, with my long blonde “dog ears” that earned me the nickname of “Buffy” (from 1970 T.V. program, Family Affair) from my grandmother. I knew today was the day. The day I had waited four long years to arrive.
At five years old, the desire to form shapes and apply color was deep within. (The smell of a new box of Crayola can still do it to me.) My older sister of four years brought home instructions for entering the school’s poster contest. Much to my disappointment one had to be in fourth grade to enter.( I could get on my soap box here, but I digress.)
I processed my ideas over and over again. I knew exactly what my future poster would be. Now all I had to do was wait four years. Four long years…..and then finally it was time to create my masterpiece.
My poster won first place in the fourth grade and first place over all. My first validation….! WOW! (My patience paid off in childhood and I hope that same patience will pay off in adulthood.)
I can’t take credit for this “stirring” that usually results in the form of my paintings. I’m not always sure if it is a gift or a curse. But I do know it was something that was born the same day I emerged from my mother’s womb….possibly earlier.
Denial was not even an option. (Been there, done that.) Denial just resulted in misery. So I have concluded, that my paintings are here and present, whether desirable or not. My paintings are here and present, whether they deck the halls of strangers or entertain each other with the dust bunnies under my bed.
My paintings reflect daily life in its chaotic setting. I take memories of everyday life. Sometimes the life is beautiful, sweet and kind. Other times it’s not. Sometimes life is even ugly.
My style is a marriage of impressionism and realism with the added flavor of emotion. The paint is usually laid with a palette knife of with a thick brush stroke. Color is applied to bring drama and vibrancy to all my paintings. Color sometimes has a mind of its own and takes over my brush leading its own way.
Van Gogh has long been among my favorites. Even my beloved furry companions have earned a right to carry his name.
My goal for today and here is to never stop learning…not to get to comfortable…never let my curiosity stop. I want to absorb every bit of information I possibly can to add to the spice of my life. I want to be the best I can be I guess to give honor to the “gift”. I want my art to mean something. Not just paint on a canvas.
Emotion plays a vital role in my paintings. It sometimes is even the driving force behind them. At times my emotions may lie dormant only to explode at a much later date.
Exposure is the hardest for me. I think the difficulty is because of the emotion involved. Exposure of my art often leaves me feeling very vulnerable. Even if the simplest form of art is exposed causes vulnerability which in turns to fear. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of being judged and not being understood. Fear of being stagnate. Harboring in the stagnant pond and becoming so comfortable that I stay there only because I’m scared of failure. Fearing I am not going to make it out…….…….
End
I am not sure if this is a confessional or a statement …. lynn
At five years old, the desire to form shapes and apply color was deep within. (The smell of a new box of Crayola can still do it to me.) My older sister of four years brought home instructions for entering the school’s poster contest. Much to my disappointment one had to be in fourth grade to enter.( I could get on my soap box here, but I digress.)
I processed my ideas over and over again. I knew exactly what my future poster would be. Now all I had to do was wait four years. Four long years…..and then finally it was time to create my masterpiece.
My poster won first place in the fourth grade and first place over all. My first validation….! WOW! (My patience paid off in childhood and I hope that same patience will pay off in adulthood.)
I can’t take credit for this “stirring” that usually results in the form of my paintings. I’m not always sure if it is a gift or a curse. But I do know it was something that was born the same day I emerged from my mother’s womb….possibly earlier.
Denial was not even an option. (Been there, done that.) Denial just resulted in misery. So I have concluded, that my paintings are here and present, whether desirable or not. My paintings are here and present, whether they deck the halls of strangers or entertain each other with the dust bunnies under my bed.
My paintings reflect daily life in its chaotic setting. I take memories of everyday life. Sometimes the life is beautiful, sweet and kind. Other times it’s not. Sometimes life is even ugly.
My style is a marriage of impressionism and realism with the added flavor of emotion. The paint is usually laid with a palette knife of with a thick brush stroke. Color is applied to bring drama and vibrancy to all my paintings. Color sometimes has a mind of its own and takes over my brush leading its own way.
Van Gogh has long been among my favorites. Even my beloved furry companions have earned a right to carry his name.
My goal for today and here is to never stop learning…not to get to comfortable…never let my curiosity stop. I want to absorb every bit of information I possibly can to add to the spice of my life. I want to be the best I can be I guess to give honor to the “gift”. I want my art to mean something. Not just paint on a canvas.
Emotion plays a vital role in my paintings. It sometimes is even the driving force behind them. At times my emotions may lie dormant only to explode at a much later date.
Exposure is the hardest for me. I think the difficulty is because of the emotion involved. Exposure of my art often leaves me feeling very vulnerable. Even if the simplest form of art is exposed causes vulnerability which in turns to fear. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of being judged and not being understood. Fear of being stagnate. Harboring in the stagnant pond and becoming so comfortable that I stay there only because I’m scared of failure. Fearing I am not going to make it out…….…….
End
I am not sure if this is a confessional or a statement …. lynn
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