Paint and the Meanings of Motherhood

I was experimenting here with the 3-d potential of paper  when I realized that my skill with paper would never be equal to the multi-dimensional demands of the human heart.  The  attention demanded by the properties of paper and the limits of my patience would forever impede my image making.

I wish I could remember who said that the painter’s power resides in their ability  to reduce the human experience to paint.   To me that statement is an elegant compession of talent's hot mess into a nutshell of dense and endless meanings.

The maserpieces to the left admirably present in paint the complex essence of motherhood...No words are required to understand the heart of the mother captured in these images.  And no amount of elaboration or commentary could possibly exhaust the depths of sweetness and anguish that accompany the nurturing of new life already infused with its potential for grief.

So it was, after all, not really the properties of paper that interested me. I gave up paper to steep myself in the mysteries of image making.  My competence remains at the level of a pre-schooler compared to these masters.  And I have never again attempted to paint a picture of mother and child. 

It’s worth noting that the beloved image of mother and infant by Gustave Klimt is only a detail from a larger work.  Amazing, isn't it, how radically the big picture changes our perception of meaning and the nature of our response! 

Life is complicated.