Lets just say that I have enough time up to my elbows in roses that my sister and brother-in-law gave me long white deerskin rose gloves to keep the thorns at bay. I thought they were kind of surreal so I painted them disembodied, dancing through the rose bushes with a mind of their own.
One thought on “In Praise of Roses”
Peter asked, “Is that a self-portrait? It looks like Mariah.” I said that a self-portrait is not about the aging, external self (although sometimes it is), but about the many faces of the self–here you are the eternal gardener, an archetype that reaches back into the roots of post-paleolithic time.
It’s a beauty–I have it hanging over my computer at this very moment!