



Two years ago I decided to start finding uses for the stacks of old calendars and scrap paper I pack around with me like a greedy hermit crab. I began to sketch birds drawn from field guides onto the more undesirable side of my paraphernalia — the tree is made from the ghost prints of an old woodblock I did ages ago — and cut out the forms with an X-acto. This project became one of the few art exercises I've done recently that didn't consume my mind with concept or execution — it was just scrap paper! I wasn't worried how they turned out, and this ended up being very liberating. Next up: how to mount them to the wall without using tape ... suggestions?
Magical!
ReplyDeleteThey burst from the tree exactly
Where the mind ends and the eye sees
Another world the equal of this one . . .
Donald Revell, "Birds small enough . . . "