Recently I've gotten my hands on the remains of a couple of critters: a ground squirrel skull and a bird. My dog found the deceased ground squirrel in my yard behind my garden shed; I left it there all summer and let nature do her work on the flesh. The bird was given to me by a local business person, who found it in her chimney. I have no idea yet how I'll incorporate them into some art, but lots of ideas are swimming around in my head. If anyone out there has any input into identifying the bird, I'm all ears. It has a fairly long beak. In fact, from the tip of its beak to the back of its head is about 2 1/2". A black bird? Maybe a starling?
Recently, a friend inquired as to why I never (I'm para-phrasing) "make any happy art?" Needless to say, I didn't answer her. How do I answer the unanswerable? I could have gone off on Americans and their ridiculous need to lump everything (including art?) into asinine dichotomies--but I didn't. I don't believe art can be simply categorized as either "happy art" or "sad art"; of course, I also don't believe in a lot of the other simplistic dichotomies that we Americans are trained to follow as gospel. I could have explained that my art, in general, isn't about "happy" or "sad"--but, rather, satire. But then I figured I'd have to explain satire--and I just didn't have the energy to do so.
Anyway, as it turns out, I just completed a piece that if I had to lump it into either sad or happy categories, would probably fall into the latter. And to be honest, it's not even satirical. It's nothing more than a tribute to those hours spent as a child, drawing and imagining--something I truly hope children today are allowed/encouraged to do. Here are some pics of the piece:
The (sometimes mad) ramblings of a mixed media artist.