tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31857561.post115669725025439798..comments2023-08-24T06:35:36.727-04:00Comments on Imelda's Brain: Death Of the MuseAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06911863503004549696noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31857561.post-1156982584977442492006-08-30T20:03:00.000-04:002006-08-30T20:03:00.000-04:00Feels like a walnut inside of me. So you take a l...Feels like a walnut inside of me. So you take a look, open the two little sides and, wow, there she, just like you painted her.dowhat327https://www.blogger.com/profile/07548624254923350326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31857561.post-1156952670766626972006-08-30T11:44:00.000-04:002006-08-30T11:44:00.000-04:00For me, art is an expression just like writing. T...For me, art is an expression just like writing. The best artists are able to give expression to what lies deep within, including grief, anger, horror, and not perhaps feelings which everyone is prepared to face. <BR/><BR/>I do a dance between avoidance and looking at insanity and dementia. I have learned that it's incredibly difficult to climb out of the pit once I fall in....and escape is never a given.<BR/><BR/>What does someone's preference for reaching for what keeps them on an even keel have to do with the artist? Absolutely nothing, unless the artist is destitute. When this is the case, wouldn't it be better to be clear on doing what sells, but not confusing it with what is honest, deep-felt expression...the real thing.<BR/><BR/>Your painting of Mama could also have represented Jack who died at<BR/>65 of progressive supracranial palsy. Such a stupid, antiseptic name for a hideous illness. Oh, but this is your blog...not mine.....Chaska Peacockhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07024653595124708783noreply@blogger.com