|Both sides of the tri-fold brochure invitation for the show.|
This idea appeals to me because it allows for layers of meaning and use of symbolic imagery. In this body of work I'm playing with objects such as masks, rocks, golden apples, light and shadow.
|Ripe Was the Drowsy Hour, 18x24, oil on panel|
The story within a story idea fits this show because Forrest and I both use these types of narratives in our work.
|Forrest Solis, Good Sleeping Habits, 36x36, mixed media|
I borrowed the title from a John Keats poem Ode on Indolence, here's one verse:
How is it, Shadows! that I knew ye not?
How came ye muffled in so hush a masque?
Was it a silent deep-disguised plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence
Benumb'd my eyes; my pulse grew less and less;
Pain had no sting, and pleasure's wreath no flower:
O, why did ye not melt, and leave my sense
Unhaunted quite of all but---nothingness?
Interesting that I found this poem after these paintings were done while I was looking for a title. He wrote about the same mystery and languor I've been painting about in this work.
And a few details of the painting...
See you tomorrow!