Painting from Memory / Evolution of Forgiveness (2006)

Homage to Edvard Munch (1984)

"Homage to Edvard Munch," is in contrast to "People Listening" from yesterday's post. In this image, a woman and man are leaning away from each other in somewhat awkward postures. When I first showed this image to friends and acquaintances, at least one person remarked that it was reminiscent of Edvard Munch's images, a remark which prompted me to title the drawing as I did. 

Although my intention was to draw a peaceful image of a woman and a man sleeping, "peaceful" didn't seem to be what was conveyed to most people. 

During the early 1980s, there were a number of occasions when I viewed exhibits of work by Edvard Munch. While I was moved by his dramatic use of color, his subject matter of grief, anxiety and alienation distressed me. All those years ago, it was heartening for me to learn that, after years of mental instability, Edvard Munch in his later paintings showed a decrease in pessimism, portraying the natural world in vibrant and healing color. Looking around the internet this morning to refresh my memory in regard to Edvard Munch's images, I found a site which has a representative selection of Munch's work.

People Listening (1984)

Untitled (1984)

This image was created when I took one of my paintings that seemed to be a failure and then cut it up and pasted it back together, along with pieces from other unsuccessful paintings, in a way that didn't feel like a failure. It may have once had a title, but I don't remember what that might be. It is one of the few paintings no one bought. I can understand why. It is jarring. I suppose it could be called a collage. The original image was derived from a photograph of Joan Baez and Bob Dylan in 1976 during the Rolling Thunder Tour.

Untitled Conversation (1984)

Today is the 21st celebration of Martin Luther King Day. I remembered the song, "Happy Birthday," by Stevie Wonder, which I still have on a vinyl album, but found it on iTunes and bought it again just now. 

When I looked out the window to the southeast before dawn this morning, the waning crescent moon was just above the hills, along with what the Farmer's Almanac says are Mars and Jupiter, appearing as morning stars. Even now at almost 8 a.m., I can still see the slim crescent moon as it rises into the day sky. It is odd to wake to snow on the ground, clear pre-dawn skies, and temperatures in the 20s for so many days in this part of Northwest Washington. 

This painting, done using a combination of watercolor and gouache (opaque watercolor), belongs to a shelter for women who are trying to put their lives together after experiencing domestic violence. Several of my drawings and paintings were donated to this shelter for fundraising events. This one was not sold, but the people at the shelter liked it, and so I gave it to them.

People With Their Eyes Closed/Baby Girl (1984)

Looking at the first image, I remember those last dark years before I began to recover from an eating disorder. When I did that drawing, I was 34 years old, within months of the end of a marriage that was dead, and acutely aware that as long as I had an eating disorder I would never be able to be a mother. I didn't know where this drawing came from, as I had not had this image in mind when I sat down to draw. The image still disturbs me almost to nausea. 

During this time, a friend of mine commissioned me to do a drawing from a photograph of her firstborn daughter. I didn't think that my style lent itself to doing portraits of babies, and I said so. She insisted that whatever I did would be fine. She was pleased with the result. I almost didn't post this drawing because today I find the vulnerability of this happy baby girl, drawn in this manner, to be unsettling. 

As I wrote in my December 15th post, the human body is vulnerable and sacred. When I did the drawing, I was not at all in touch with my own vulnerability because I was eating massive amounts of food to keep from feeling vulnerable. 

 One of my earliest memories, at 2 years and 1 month old, is that I was standing next to a stone birdbath which had a statue in the middle of it. I looked down at the clear water and old leaves at the bottom of the birdbath and debated whether I should touch the water. It looked beautiful to me. At that age I was quite aware that there were many things I wasn't supposed to touch, and I knew I didn't want to be punished. But the water was so inviting, and I decided to take the risk. I remember reaching my hand into the cool water and then being startled to hear someone saying my name. When I looked up, my picture was being taken. I distinctly and clearly remember feeling fear that I had been caught doing something I shouldn't do. I felt vulnerable and not at all sacred. I am always amazed when I see people talking in front of 2 year olds as if they were not present.

Yom and Karuna (1984)

In spring of 1975, I was working in a large warehouse as an industrial sewing machine operator, assembling ski pants with eight to ten women of various ages. One day, a large group of Vietnamese women was introduced to us as our new co-workers. They were among the first group of refugees who came from Vietnam after the war ended. I became friends with Yom (the name she took when she came to the United States), who was close in age to me and who had spent some years as a young girl and young woman in what sounded like a Catholic orphanage and who had not been adopted. A family had sponsored Yom to come to the United States after the war ended. They helped her until she was able to live on her own. 

Sometime around when I began doing the pastel drawings I've been posting, Yom went to India as a volunteer working in an orphanage and there she made friends with Karuna. Yom had some hopes of adopting Karuna but wasn't able to adopt her. Yom brought me her favorite photo of Karuna, along with a photo of Yom and said that she would like to commission me to do a drawing with both of them together. I told her that it might take a long time for me to do the drawing, but that I would give it a try. I didn't have the confidence that I could get a good enough likeness. 

A year later, after much procrastinating, I sat down and did the above drawing, which is a good likeness. Yom loved the drawing. This is one of two drawings that I did on a commission basis during the early 1980's. On a third occasion, I was commissioned to paint a Muppet mural on the wall of a child's bedroom. All three commissions were successful, but I found that doing commissions was extremely stressful for me and have not done any since then.