I always have many questions. Some might say too many questions. I am curious by nature, and I like understanding things. So, when my collectors and friends suggested I write about my own art, I already knew the answer to my questions because the questions are how I begin.
What do I want to say?
This is the first question I ask before any sketch is made. With my recent Childfree Madonna series, I wanted to illustrate childfree women possessing traits of generosity and grace.
Why do I want to say it?
As I reached a certain age, I felt it best to give the idea of motherhood a final once over. Am I still happy with my choices? Do I understand my reasons? Creating helps me process that kind of introspection and answer those kinds of queries. Even years later, I could still hear voices from my past telling me, “You’ll regret not having children.” and “Only selfish people don't want children.” or even “Please never have children.” After giving the idea considerable and proper thought, I was motivated to make art that says, “I won’t regret it, and I don't feel selfish.”
How should I say it?
For the childfree series, I wanted a familiar language, images that would be recognizable as virtuous. My background in art history sent me looking to see how those concepts had been conveyed before. The Renaissance Madonnas were exactly what I was looking for, and I began playing with ideas of replacing the babes and made some quick proof of concepts in photoshop.
Then, using the photos of the original paintings and the mockups as a guide, I began painting. The digitized collections of the major galleries allowed me to learn from the masters. I imagined I was a renaissance painter’s apprentice, and I studied their brushstrokes joyfully. Each madonna, on average, took me two weeks to paint, and unlike the masters, I use acrylic paint. How modern!
I like painting. I like the way it feels, looks, sounds, and smells. I like having messy hands and clothes. I enjoy that there is no CTRL Z; if I make mistakes, I either have to find a way to live with them or correct them. It means I have to be thoughtful before acting and adaptive when things go wrong.
Why NFTs?
I always imagined my art online, and I don’t try and sell my physicals anymore. If someone buys my NFT, they can have the physical painting or not, or I can store it or even destroy it if requested by the NFT owner. I don’t really care. I think of my canvasses similarly to all NFT’s original files. They are just artefacts of my creation process. The NFT is the art, and the canvas is part of the art-making.
On the other hand, I do know paintings can last 500+ years. I have seen them. I have held them. No one can know how long NFT’s will last. I hope eternally, but the canvasses help me hedge my bets on longevity. Sure not all canvases make it into history, but a rare few do.
Why art?
This question is the hardest for any artist to answer. I don’t know why I am an artist. I have always felt compelled to write, draw, sing. Art is the only thing that has ever held my interest and stimulates the most questions.
What’s next?
I have painted a series called Past Peseant’s Futures that explores analogue and digital histories. These artworks feel anachronistic, and I felt like a time-traveller painting them. I am playing around with animation, so I might incorporate that into the series as well. Other than that, I will continue exploring the crypto sphere, write about my findings and keep an eye out for artists that make me want to ask more questions.
