Grids and circles, circles and grids. When I go to paint, that’s what I do.
Perhaps it’s reflecting my life right now, which seems to be caught in a grid of someone else’s manufacturing. This is a common dilema throughout my life: trying to shape myself to fit someone else’s grid. That’s employment, in a nutshell. I’m so not a grid girl. Maybe all the circles represent my attempt to reassert myself, push through the grid, let the restrictions fall away. I don’t have to succumb.
I hope you’re laughing. I just burst into it (a good, circular kind of thing to do). Is any of this true? Excuse me while I go and cogitate for a while.
I like what’s happening on the edges (peripheries are my favoured hangouts). A kind of calligraphic thing is attempting to break loose at the bottom edge.
Excuse me while I go and cogitate some more.