A Good Critique Day

Occasionally the sun shines.  Occasionally my hair behaves. Occasionally I have a good critique.

Eleven people, plus my teacher, crowded into my studio to look at my pictures.  My stuff.  My ouevre.  My work.  Rules: I could answer questions directed at me, but should otherwise remain silent during the discussion.  Fine by me.  My talking rarely helps.

My classmates were initially overwhelmed by my space.  (Possibly because I have used two different wallpapers and hung way too many paintings.)  They called it loud and said there was so much to look at that they were unable to focus on the individual pieces. Overall, they felt that most of my art was lost in the bright colors and the general noise.

Thank you.


I intend to hang my art and hide it at the same time.  I mean to create a faux-domestic setting in which my secrets lie under the surface.  In private.  Just like in my real home. Just like in my real life.  Just like in your life, too, I bet.