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The Truth Comes Out

So, today I was doing some cleaning (cleaning? yeah, I know…! I must be procrastinating or something, hm?), sorting through the piles of detritus that are our home. Most of it was paper. Things to be recycled. Trimmings from books. Catalogs from Pottery Barn. Drawings of Alden’s (art is her latest enthusiastic endeavor, when she can’t be swinging). Discoveries were made.

I was most impressed by her neo-formalist conté drawing in black and orange, titled “Neo-Formalist Conté Drawing in Black and Orange”.

05.27

She did it on a piece of heavyweight pulp card stock that was used as a divider in the Makers Tiles shipping boxes. Which maybe makes it less neo-formalist and more post-minimalist. Anyhoo – I was pleased to have discovered it before it got accidentally tossed.

Feeling rosy inside about my young progeny’s budding interest in the things that interest me, I got a little emotional. A tear came to my eye. Maybe she would be the artist, after all, not the writer (actually, we’re both really really hoping for an accountant). I felt very close to her in that moment. Close in the way that two fellow artists can feel close, not just in the way a mother feels close to her daughter. And then I found this:

drawing

Right next to the voodoo dolls. I’m totally watching my back from now on.

4 comments to The Truth Comes Out

  • Clare

    Love the study in black and orange. Very Twombly-esque.

    As for the portrait overlay, I think there is a code inscripted here…the likes of which remind me of some of my early work, in particular, a group photo of my first grade co-ed dance class, in which every kid, except for me, was scribbled over with a ball point pen. My mom says it was no mystery who did the damage.
    ;-)

  • Robbi

    Clare – we all know that you only scribble over the people who deserve it. How you must have suffered in that dance class…

  • Clare

    Robbi,

    Indeed, it was traumatic. They partnered me with my brother, who was (and still is) such a doofus. This particular photo was of the Martha and George Washington dance. I remember the white wigs. In the recital, instead of dancing, my brother stood stock still and stared at the audience, ruining my opportunity to show off. I was mortified. Obviously never got over it. ;-)

    Just opened my tiles and am having so much fun with them. They are awesome!

  • Robbi

    Clare – oh my. If anyone had made me and my brother learn how to dance together, one of us would have certainly strangled the other. And I have a pretty good feeling I would be the stranglee. That is just NEVER a good idea.

    And glad you’re enjoying the tiles – they sure can be a great distraction (I know it!).

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