I don’t know about you, but when I was a kid I often felt squelched in my artistic pursuits. Like, the time we had watched some TV show about Scotland and they made blood pudding, and I later drew a sheep with a hole in it and blood squirting out (I suddenly dearly wish I had never gotten rid of that drawing) and a parent shrieked, “WHAT ARE YOU DRAWING?” Or doing a sort of Jackson Pollack free-form thing in crayon in school only to be told, sternly, that it was not “a pattern” (that teacher was wrong, it wasn’t a repetitive pattern, but in third grade one doesn’t know that).
I kind of got trained that “playing” and “making art” were not compatible activities, so I started to take my art REALLY SERIOUSLY and sometimes, even, I took it so seriously that I wouldn’t do any work for oh, a year or two. SERIOUSLY SERIOUS, was I.
Lately, at this advanced developmental stage of 44 years old, I’ve been trying to just “fool around” a little in the studio. Mess about. Today, that resulted in this necklace, which came about as I dismantled a shrug I’d made several years ago that was too “something” to sell here. It was fun, and organic, and I actually like and would wear the result. I might even make more of them just for, well, just for FUN.