I love October and all of the harvest festivities that come long with it. Apple picking, raking the leaves, putting the garden to bed... it also means that ghouls and ghosts will be out in full force to celebrate Halloween. In our house we have many traditions associated with the season. The last couple of years, that tradition has come to include making a few pieces of art to put in the Art of Horror show at the S.P.A.C.E gallery. I love this show. It's gory, spooky and completely unconventional. Putting work in this show helps me to stretch my mind and challenges my personal notions and ideas. When I finish working on pieces for this show, I always feel recharged and inspired about making art again.
Yesterday, I put up photos of Poor Dolly, this new piece was conceived in my head the same day, way back in July. The doll came from the same lot of dolls are the decaying baby and the sled was oddly paired in a lot with the domed box I transformed into her cradle (someone today called it her coffin, yikes...I guess it does look like one, doesn't it.)
There was something about the velvet red dress and the doll's startled expression that seemed to work with the faded, broken sled. So, tonight, I committed to the piece, did some gluing and screwing and pulled the whole thing together...
It makes me think about Edith Wharton's Ethan Frome. about sledding down the hill as a child, even past dusk when my mother had already told me told me several times to come and that it was too dangerous to stay out in the bitter cold. What are the consequences of simple pleasures? Where is the point where thrill turns to folly? turns to disaster? is a life lived entirely in the "safety zone" really lived?
All these questions percolate to the front of my mind, when i think about this new piece. The only thing I can't think of, that i can't come to terms with is a name... maybe you can help me title it....
what should it be called?
Assemblage from found objects: sled, doll, prayer book, shoe, bonnet, ribbon