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Hoops, escape and lots of blood
From the Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020
Layers of history and time
From the Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020
That fucking tire
From Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020.
First Kisses, Atari and big thoughts
From Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020.
Oh shit Ow
From Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020.
So many trees fell
From Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020.
Carpet Artichoke
From the Grandview House series, acrylic paint and ink on paper, 18”x24”, 2020
These recent works are inspired by memories of one of my childhood homes. This particular house is the place where I lived while going to elementary school after my parents divorced when I was 6 and after we moved to central Ohio from the New Jersey shore. When I close my eyes and remember my childhood, I don’t think about this house as a place I long for. I do remember my friends form the neighborhood, but home to me was always somewhere on the shore closer to where my father lived in Connecticut.
I have often joked that I grew up on an airplane between Laguardia Airport in NYC and Columbus, that’s only kind of a joke. I realize now that I grew up with tremendous support and two loving parents that gave me opportunities few children could ever have. However, this house was never the home I wanted or a place I felt comfortable in. This was the home I tried desperately not to recreate during my 20 year long first marriage. It’s also the home I find myself pondering recently as I have sold my farm and moved back into a city with lots of similar homes to this one around me and I find myself blessed with new love.
This was the home of big dreams, first kisses, endless basketball games, science and art projects. It was the home of family battles and lots of tears, mostly from growing up, but also while my hand was surgically rebuilt after I was in a bad car accident with my sister at the age of 15. Thirty years-ish later I still have daily pain from that accident and while no one that has worked or known me for years realizes this part of my life, the memory of this home is a consistent reminder of the changes that accident brought to my then young life and the daily pain it gives me now.
Though my memories of this house are a “mixed bag” I do think of it fondly. My mother, my sister and I worked through a lot of challenging good things here. I also learned a great deal of self sufficiency, which has informed the parent and the partner I work hard to be.