Imperfection's Definition of Perfection: 2012

I was told by a good friend of mine that I needed to document the stages of my work. He said he was impressed by the phases my work went through in order to be considered (I add... "some what") done. So to further my mission to focus on the life of a painting, or just art in general, I think his input is quite important to getting my point across. With that said.....

My loving husband gave me a canvas for my birthday almost 2 years ago; bought it and walked it home because it was too big for the car (Bless his heart). It actually reminds me of walking canvas' across Fort Collins, Co to campus for class or a show. Awwwww.....the memories. I was seriously considering selling the beautiful blank support when it began to call to me. I know that sounds like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo-artist-cr** but it is very true. Shortly after thinking deeply as to what the image was that was configuring itself in my head I decided I needed to get to a florist for some dead flowers.

Now those who have followed my work over the years know that this isn't anything short of what I have been doing for a matter of time now. It just never dawned on me that I could walk into a florist and ask for their dead flowers. This is because I always enjoyed watching the bouquet next to my bed curl as the green life was sucked out, moisture lost, the 'Vanitas' being apparent. I know that might sound a bit morbid but thus is life....nothing lasts forever (except: I believe that love does indeed last forever if it is true....I would like to add that in here). In short, I headed to Whole Foods down the street to get my loot, knowing that they have one of the best selections of flowers beyond daisies, or whatever, and roses this time of year. I think I walked out with about a hundred dollars worth of Tulips and Lilies that day, brought them home, and let them continue their journey.

That evening I sat down with my son's crayons, which I like far better than my own Crayolas because they have a better mark and consistency to stroke, and drew what I saw in my vase. Plus, Has anyone let lilies become over ripe in their home? The smell is sooooooo intoxicating, and for me not in a good way, so I was hot to get those buggers in the compost. It has always reminded me of an elderly woman's perfume that she has owned for centuries and saves for special occasions, yellowing the glass inside the bottle and clogging the spritzer with it's oils. That, and a baby's bottom back when Johnson and Johnson baby oil was popular. Oh, and women's deodorant but after you have sweat too much and are on the verge of smelling like a dirty litter box. Here is something about me: hitting puberty I always hated that smell when I got home from school and have worn men's deodorant since....it works better...and I feel perhaps, when it comes down to women's deodorant, they need to come up with a different formula. Anyhow, the blooms had to go and quick.

Here is what that evening produced. Stage one of a process. The dawn of this piece's life.