Encaustic Finished Toned Gelatin Silver Print
There is a whole new body of work locked and loaded within me, how do I pull the trigger? I know exactly what is to become of this work, I can see the images I have not yet made, I know what I have not yet been able to say, and I understand what I have not yet seen. It is a strange beast this creative animal; I need to get on and ride it out, not tame it. Taming creativity would be murder, instead we must let go of control and let creativity murder us. Where, when and how to start is the age old question of being an artist, we all have our different mechanisms though. I am at a point of no return; I am blind but see everything, I am deaf but life is so loud, I am on the verge of everything but have no idea what it is. This is my creative process this is my life. I have been stocking up on thought, mood, meaning, and nonsense, when I am ready this will be my catalyst for creating, when am I ready? We must surrender, to force is to die, to open up is to live.
There was a time when art was it’s purest form; that one instance at the birth happened in cave on a wall 32,000 years ago. A simple negative of the artist hand was created on the wall of this cave. These paintings were merely created. A negative of a hand, an artist put their hand on the wall and blew pigment around the hand screaming to himself I like to think “I did exist I was a shadow upon earth!” and this creation, this thought is for me only. This blows my mind; the first art made shows a shadow of existence, rather than a stamp of assured existence.
We are all shadows that haunt for a time, nothing more.