The Meaning of...

Okay, so I think it's fair to say that my paintings many times end up being a little bit of a puzzle for the viewer, and in this way might lend themselves to people asking what the hell I was trying to say. Sometimes that can be irritating, since I don;t always want to figure out what I mean. Can;t I just make pretties? It actually took me a while to find out what I was trying to say, and it came about in a way I wouldn't have thought. I was surprised, in a way, to be staring at my paintings, thinking about why a person with animal parts might appeal to me.

Artists strive to bring to their medium the way they see the world, maybe show people a new way of seeing something they've grown accustomed to, see for the first time something they ignored before. All of that is about the now, right? Even someone who paints their dreams is painting their now. Even someone who paints their history is painting how they see it now. A samurai through the rose colored glasses of a contemporary Japanese painter will still be telling a story about where he or she is at right now, their relationship to their own history. I don't think you can excuse the artists from being present in their art. It's like writing, or dancing or singing. It all comes through the person creating the piece, and is therefore specific. In this way, you could read deeply into anything an artist does, and maybe you should. Maybe you shouldn't. Listen, I love, love, love Tori Amos and her music, but her lyrics are specific to her experience. They are also, however, specific to my experience. That's the beauty of poetry: it's not necessary to know what the person creating it was intending. And art is poetry.

Asking a person why they chose this or that, what a piece means to them will both expand a viewer's understanding, and shrink their individual experience. In the eye of the beholder, anything can be beautiful, or terrifying, or inspiring. So I am happy, on the one hand, to let my paintings mean whatever they will to the person spending time in front of one. BUT...they do mean something (maybe different) to me. Like I said, this was a realization that came about after I had already followed an art path I found especially enjoyable. In short, I like painting people with animal parts. But did they mean more than what they seemed? Did they have to mean more? It's kind of like having a secret thing for feet and then realizing you have strategically placed feet in all your paintings. I felt naked when I realized.

I identify very strongly with these creatures, these in-betweeners. I say it often, and it's true: they are both and therefore neither, both greater and less than their parts. As am I. They serve two purposes, really. They represent the sometimes strangeness I feel walking through the world as a person on both sides of an ethnic fence (sometimes shunned, sometimes viewed mystically, sometimes adored, sometimes ignored), and also to widen the viewer's perspective on an issue I feel very strongly about. Much as I consider myself a bit of a bridge between two cultures, able to speak both languages, understand the flaws and strengths of both cultures, these creatures would, in their world, be the bridge between species. A person at home at the bottom of the ocean who could look and speak like a human being would be the greatest possible go-between. Who better to speak for creatures on the other side of the language barrier than someone of both sides of it?

So I suppose all of my art is about bridges. I guess if I were a landscape painter I might focus only on bridges. If I were an abstract painter, I would focus mostly on the fuzzy place two opposites met. If I were a singer or a dancer, I don't think I could help but culture mash. How could I? I do not want to be excused from being present in my art. I don't want to be dismissed as another fantasy artist, but I don't want to be tied to it either. This is my now, my present, my life. But I hope that I can create art that means something to the viewer as well, something that transcends my experience alone. I guess whatever meaning sparks the biggest flame is fine with me.

xoxo
Laurelin