Wiping the Slate
Just bought a house that was built ten years before the States were United (1766).
On the left is a current picture of the house. On the right is Richard Keasts, a former owner standing in front of the house, taken in 1890. There is a 3 car garage in the back that was at one time a horse stable which we hope to turn into the studio. Because of this, I gave up my studio in the Erector Square factory building. It felt weird getting rid of it. I'd worked and made a mess in there for a good 8 years. It was amazing how quickly I could take my presence out of that studio. (with the exception of a hundred layers of tape and paint on the floor) It really felt weird (did i say that yet?) I look over some of the pictures as evidence of some of the better projects and times spent in that building, and I can feel each of those moments again, but the next person in the space won't know those experiences. I'm too distrustful of my desires to believe they will feel it. (this is probably why I paint) I think there is an emotional vibe to spaces, but i suspect it is more the architecture and light that gives you that sense than passed lives lived there. There are moments when I'm drawing someone's face where I wonder about what in the person's features belong to ancestors and what is unique. Here we are, starting anew in a home that has had plenty of former inhabitants, yet our task to some degree, is to make it our own, to disown what the place meant before. To wipe the slate.
I will eventually be painting in a structure that formerly had horses in it. My only concession to that will be to possibly make a horse painting. Until the studio is built I will be working small. (There is an Eastern Icon book I shelled out 90 bucks for that I've been scouring over for inspiration.) I have a few panels and a sketchbook that will be my artistic activity until I take over the garage. Here are some shots of the Erector Square studio over the years.
R.I.P Erector Square