Observations (in the raw)
Two days ago, a small, black-covered book arrived in the mail. It is a book by artist Sophie Jodoin. It's a catalogue, of sorts, about a show she had of her work in 2004 called, 'Drawing Shadows: portraits of my mother'. As the title suggests, it is all portraits/drawings of her then sixty-five year old mother. All are black and white mixed media of acrylic, pastel, and charcoal on black Stonehenge paper. The images slip out of the dark. Intimate. Haunting. Poetic.
So, for two days, at odd times, I have found myself returning to this small book trying to unlock its secrets. It does what all great art does. It grabs you somewhere deep and lets you know you're hungry for something you didn't even know was missing. All of Jodoin's work is that way. I am in awe, in the truest sense of the word.
Pat Greenwell is an artist. A painter and sometimes poet, he has been searching the New Mexico desert for a couple of years now, looking for lost possibilities and probable intentions.
"...mostly stream-of-consciousness stuff, you know...