Thursday 31st March 2005
There's a new exhibition of paintings by two artists - Brigid Noone and Mary-Jean Richardson going up in the Art Gallery where we do our morning Ashtanga practice. Brigid's artist statement was so poignent and real, that I wanted to post it. What a refreshing change to read an artists statement that exposes vulnerable feelings so honestly...
"I paint to make sense of my internal and external world.
I live in a world where there are super models and suicide bombers. I am still the same person I was as a child. All that I had was my internal world, the intimacy of safe spaces. The world has been and is a shock to me. The world that is shown is in my face, seriously how is it that bad? Images jump out at me from photo albums, news papers, magazines and my camera. Eyes become de-sensitised, how can art compete with being a consumer, we are communicated to through desire everyday.
The superficiality of beautiful nothingness the obsession with our hair, and how we are seen. To reveal the right pre ordered amount of self. I don’t want to be an ironic artist, I want to show you my soft side.
Light inspires me, and colour is my world.
Spaces of awkwardness, seeing a feeling on someone’s face when they were convinced that no one could see their innermost vulnerability, that escaped in a moment. To catch a glance of secret sadness, uncertainty, hopelessness, forgotten childhood magic.
The vulnerability of naked men, naked boys look at me like I felt when I was little. “What was it like to be a little girl?” he asked, same as you I was vulnerable before I knew what it meant. When do you get ok with being tough? When is a little girl ever pretty enough? Little girls don’t care about being pretty they are too busy being. Dream boys in the sky….Imagined worlds, real and grounded drawings in the sky, within skylines that hum with forgotten dreams.
Tree spirit is dying, all the breathing beauty we are surrounded by is slipping away, don’t blink or you could miss it. Conversations between the paintings are whispers here, sometimes in the studio they yell and argue. But here they are what they are.
Vulnerability is in the eyes and in faces. To be lying next to someone, so close that their face is a little blurred. To feel a pressing weight and to be crushed. To be ok in someone else’s space (in love) is maybe what it’s all about, whether you are a super model or suicide bomber."
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There's a new exhibition of paintings by two artists - Brigid Noone and Mary-Jean Richardson going up in the Art Gallery where we do our morning Ashtanga practice. Brigid's artist statement was so poignent and real, that I wanted to post it. What a refreshing change to read an artists statement that exposes vulnerable feelings so honestly...
"I paint to make sense of my internal and external world.
I live in a world where there are super models and suicide bombers. I am still the same person I was as a child. All that I had was my internal world, the intimacy of safe spaces. The world has been and is a shock to me. The world that is shown is in my face, seriously how is it that bad? Images jump out at me from photo albums, news papers, magazines and my camera. Eyes become de-sensitised, how can art compete with being a consumer, we are communicated to through desire everyday.
The superficiality of beautiful nothingness the obsession with our hair, and how we are seen. To reveal the right pre ordered amount of self. I don’t want to be an ironic artist, I want to show you my soft side.
Light inspires me, and colour is my world.
Spaces of awkwardness, seeing a feeling on someone’s face when they were convinced that no one could see their innermost vulnerability, that escaped in a moment. To catch a glance of secret sadness, uncertainty, hopelessness, forgotten childhood magic.
The vulnerability of naked men, naked boys look at me like I felt when I was little. “What was it like to be a little girl?” he asked, same as you I was vulnerable before I knew what it meant. When do you get ok with being tough? When is a little girl ever pretty enough? Little girls don’t care about being pretty they are too busy being. Dream boys in the sky….Imagined worlds, real and grounded drawings in the sky, within skylines that hum with forgotten dreams.
Tree spirit is dying, all the breathing beauty we are surrounded by is slipping away, don’t blink or you could miss it. Conversations between the paintings are whispers here, sometimes in the studio they yell and argue. But here they are what they are.
Vulnerability is in the eyes and in faces. To be lying next to someone, so close that their face is a little blurred. To feel a pressing weight and to be crushed. To be ok in someone else’s space (in love) is maybe what it’s all about, whether you are a super model or suicide bomber."
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