When I started this whole photo business four years ago, I would leave critic wanting to quit simply because I was so embarrassed by having to show work. I'm not embarrassed anymore, but I have acquired a new feeling that I still need to name. After I hear those dreaded words, "I want you to push yourself..." And my synapses start sparking away- "Wait a minute! You don't understand me! Maybe you'll see my great artistry in painting, or drawing or ... well while we're on the topic of all the great things I can do, how about singing... or weeding?" I think I bore people and it disappoints me to see that, but it doesn't defeat me.
I'm calling this set of ink paintings, "My Fourteen Birds of Prey". They will go under the scanner this weekend and mercilessly get Photo-Shopped. I stayed away from it as long as I could, but now I need to sign, seal and deliver my soul by Monday.
Yes I made fourteen because that was the assignment given. There is no subtle concept incorporated in that number in any way shape or form.