Impressions of Motherhood

I’ve been thinking lately about how loving someone might be one of the most complex art forms. There is in the same way a painting is constructed, through layers through instinct through letting loose and pulling in. Through knowing when to zoom in and zoom out. Through the quiet realization that nothing is ever final. Just impressions.

These mini recent mother/child paintings (“Held in Color”) are a somewhat of an ode to a Charleston favorite, Teil Duncan. I stumbled upon her nude portrait series at this point of my life when I desperately wanted to be a mother. When I saw them, I always saw a little child bouncing on the laps of the women. I know I was just projecting, but I couldn’t unsee them and they’ve been with me since.

It was the color blocking aspect that kept me locked in to these. The push/pull, the act of traveling from one joyful color to the next. The islands created and bridges between them. These shapes slowly becoming figures. The figures slowly merging together. Together, but always connected. I used to quote Vincent van Gogh a lot back when I was an art teacher, and one of my favorites has always been: “There is no blue without yellow and without orange.”

I keep coming back to the idea that nothing exists in isolation, that color is totally relational, independent and alive simply because of what surrounds it. That’s motherhood for me. This constant arranging and rearranging of the pallet. Learning when to move closer, when to step back. Trusting the image even when it feels unfinished. Like fields of color & like love itself….we’re all shaped by our surroundings and held together in ways both seen and unseen.