Talking about art

My father, an art history professor, once said you should never allow an artist to talk about his or her own work. Invariably, their verbal explanation makes no sense at all. Verbal and visual occupy two different parts of the brain, after all. But graphic artists work with words, too. (Although sometimes I just want to arrange them by size and color.)

I really like the big empty space in the center—the kid is about to step into the picture and begin that long and scary journey down the road. And he would rather not go alone. So, you know, if you want, you can come, maybe. The road originally had little red riding hood and the wolf on it, so anything is possible. I love the kid. His (her?) life is a serious business, even if you have to wear a silly suit. Maybe especially when you have to wear a silly suit. It's just better not be alone on that road.

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Not yet.

I have not yet had the urge to blog, but you never know. And so I am leaving this page in place along with my favorite picture (that was not sold). Sure, it looks like a lush and beautiful world on the other side, but DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR, little girl.

It may be too late.

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