If you remember, I wrote about the painting I had bought from Anne Sargent Walker back at the beginning of April and how it never ceases to bring a rush of joy to me when I walk into the room where I have hung it. Well, I've spent the last couple of weeks since my purchase thinking about her work and how much I wish I could buy another piece. Or ten.
I'm not sure if it's the birds since I have a rather obsessive love of birds, or if it's the paintings' color palettes or the solid feel of Walker's choice of substrates. Maybe it's the story each work tells: brushstrokes as words that whisper into my ears charming little tales and whimsical ideas. Is it man and birds coming together in an ideal relationship, without fear and without hesitation, as I find myself quite often wishing for that effortless interaction between myself and wild birds? And while I may not be able to put my finger on what exactly it is that makes me react so strongly to her work, I am very drawn to it all. It speaks to me on a very visceral level and it makes me smile all the way from my heart up to my lips and back down to the tips of my toes. And how could I not love something that makes me so perfectly, blissfully happy?
Photos of her work courtesy of Anne Sargent Walker.
1 comment:
i found you on flickr, i think, and then found your blog. i look forward to reading more. you remind me a bit of myself, writing writing writing. and birds. i linked to you on my blog tonight, hope you don't mind. just wanted to say hello!
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