Water and Earth do not just make mud...

but let's start with colors.  All my life, I've been drawn to cool colors.  Given a choice, it will be blue, green or purple in all their various shades.  As I mature, the warm tones can be problematic at times.  There are days with what are called optical migraines.  This means no headache is involved, but it can involve sensitivity to light and colors.  Looking at yellows in particular those days, along with the reds and oranges, can be a challenge.  There is a sensory overload.

For the images with the trees, you'll find some of this in play.  While it looks like a green color pop, it's actually the reverse.  It was a day when the yellows and oranges needed to go away. They have not actually been removed from these portraits, but are desaturated from the image.  Yet, they are still very present as shades of light.  They are impacting the contrast and luminosity of the greens and skin tones.  These would be very different images if nothing more had been done but eliminating the colors.  The yellows are still bright.  The oranges are still rich.  The reds are still giving depth to those eyes.

For all that, it is the greens that draw me to our Dryad.

Before starting the Dryad tree images though, I started playing with the studio portraits.  My favorite, as you've probably guessed, is the one with the parched bonsai.  While this portrait has a tree, it is more truly about my continuing love affair of vintage and history. 

Most of the outfits you'll see in my fine art portraits are sourced from second hand and consignment shops.  When you know you are going to do what we've done to this poor dress, you know you don't want to do so to one costing a fortune.  While not a vintage gown, I knew it had that feel, and that I wanted to do something more than just put it on a beautiful woman, though beautiful Taylor is.  The goal was something earthy and connected.  Connected to the earth... Connected to a sense of aging... Connected to our past.  The porcelain clay we used is that and more for me.

With much of my work, there is symbology associated with it.  You've seen already that trees are a source of inspiration.  Their rootedness, the amount of history they've seen, and the fact they are simply why we can breathe, all charm me.  The clay comes in because I have a secret love affair with the potter's wheel as well, and it's been a while since I've had the chance to play.  If I'm going to lose a day, it will be readying a wedge of clay, placing it on a wheel, and watching what it wants to become.  You don't master clay.  You shape it.  You follow it's will at times.  You develop a relationship.  It forces the need for cooperation and understanding.

Bringing the porcelain into this series is about the need for our past to shape our lives, and the understanding that it's not all about our will.  The past should not necessarily color our time on this earth.  But it should imbue everything in it.  Like the clay, the past will brighten and enrich us.  It will give us something to mold ourselves around and use to create something new.  Life is like the fire that toughens the clay into art or function.  It is we who choose which direction to take.

It is we who choose.  We choose where we draw our strength and inspiration; our purpose and what we'll use to create it; whether we fight, succumb, or lead.  We are connected to each other and the earth in this life.  It is time we created more than chaos and brevity.