Musings on the marks that define us...
I have persistent, dreamlike memories of Coney Island. And in my imagination, the rollercoaster is always broken and overgrown. It feels like something beautiful and decayed and somehow fills me with longing for my own childhood.
I love the encaustic medium because melting wax creates a texture that reveals itself best when "dirtied" by a film of oil paint that nestles into its grooves. There is a beauty in what adheres to us as we move through the world. We are touched and changed by our experiences.
Every messy mark tells a story. No one rides for free.