Sunday, February 05, 2006

The Eyes of Apollo

I did this collage around Christmas. It was my 4th collage since I vowed to begin doing artwork again. I didn't post it then because I didn't think it turned out very well (I wasn't very happy with the composition), and it was created out of a lot of pain that I wasn't ready to share yet. It's based on Gauguin's painting, The Little Black Pigs. Gauguin's painting shows a hut with animal life and people outside the hut, going about their daily activities. I decided to put most of the activity inside my house. The house is my body. There is Daphne, turning into a tree in order to avoid Apollo's romantic advances. At the time I made the collage, I was thinking: How nice it would be to turn into a tree to avoid my troubles. Look at all the eyes. Those are the eyes of Apollo (the sun), and the introspective eyes of the artist. Clearly, I felt a lot of conflict between wanting to run away from my problems and wanting to look deeply into them. On another note, I've worked all weekend on two short-short stories I plan to enter into a contest. I feel good about the stories, and I believe one of them may be the beginning of a novel. Our weather turned very cold over the weekend. Quite a bit of snow, gray sky, and cold wind. Just the right kind of weather for introspection: I love it!


Vicky said...

Well, you may not have been very happy with it, but I really like it, Theresa. There is a lot to see in it (pun intended). Seeing Daphne turning into a tree reminded me of the Frida Kahlo painting, Roots, where she is depicted with all sorts of greenery growing from her body. Maybe the image you show is also one of you becoming fertile in your introspection?

Good luck with the short-shorts!

Love, Vicky

Cynthia said...

I like this one a lot. I kept finding more things that drew my attention. Good luck with the stories and the potential novel.

ggw07 said...

Archaic Torso of Apollo
by R. M. Rilke
translated by H. Landman
We never knew his fantastic head,
where eyes like apples ripened. Yet
his torso, like a lamp, still glows
with his gaze which, although turned down low,

lingers and shines. Else the prow of his breast
couldn't dazzle you, nor in the slight twist
of his loins could a smile run free
through that center which held fertility.

Else this stone would stand defaced and squat
under the shoulders' diaphanous dive
and not glisten like a predator's coat;

and not from every edge explode
like starlight: for there's not one spot
that doesn't see you. You must change your life.
A novel born in pain and winter- Ah!

beths front porch said...

Theresa, I am happy when I see a post in your blog. And the creative life - I love what Vicky says - maybe "becoming fertile in your introspection"? Or, what seeds does the pain plant, seeds that germinate when we cast the sun of our eyes on it? And if so, why??? --Beth

DesLily said...

I'm afraid I'm not much into art/ collages so I'm glad you explained it...

i do like the idea of turning into a tree to escape though! Did i notice she was not setting roots? If so, maybe the escape is not a permanent thing?

Erin said...

Theresa--I enjoyed this post! I'm intrigued by images of transformation, and I think this is a very good collage.

Thank you for your recommendations on Agee--I'll have to pick up one of his book soon!

Globetrotter said...

Your collages are wonderful. I'm glad you didn't turn into a tree before posting this one.

DEREK said...

I think it's beautfully done. Trees have always been very symbolic for me as well. Loved this post!

Judith HeartSong said...

love the collage and I cannot wait to hear more about this story that may turn into a novel.
I have painted a lot of women trees..... there is one in the mural at the National Zoo.... shhhh, that is a secret.

ckays1967 said...

Alas it is in our suffering that our spirits truly see.

I am reminded of The Heart of Darkness and how each man has the potential for it. The Congo. The wilderness. Wild at heart.

I am rambling in your collage.

Have you noticed the you return to Gauguin again and again? I wonder what haunts you about his work the most?

I understand it but wonder what it is for you.

V said...

And the starkness of the tree lying underneath.


Tom said...

I am fascinated by the outstreached hand with an eye in its palm. I am assuming that this represents the introspective eye of the artist. It is the eye which views, while the fingers of the hand, with tactile sensitivity, actually build the collage itself.



About Me

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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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