There is so much new development happening in the South End that I imagine my finished coloring book will be a mix of many different eras.
Apartment Therapy’s recent ode to 70s furniture got me thinking about other unique aesthetics from the decade that began when I was 11 and ended when I was 21. Here’s a linkathon to some of the kooky and unique design delights of that era.
Back in May, there was a BBC story going around about a pair of identical twin artists who paint collaboratively. Something about the story captured my curiosity, and I watched the related video several times. The aspect I found most interesting was that they paint in unison on the same images—they work on large canvases, so there’s room for two—and appear to have the same internal vision for the art. Or at least that’s what I got from it. See what you think…here’s the video. After seeing that video about twin artists Marina and Irina Fabrizius, I thought more about what it might mean to be—and have—a twin. I’m not a twin, but my mother (who passed away at the age of 88 in 2013) was one. She was not an identical twin, but a fraternal one. She and her twin had lived several states apart all my life, so I didn’t see them together very often. When one of our families would make the car trip to visit the other, I only noticed their differences. My mother was long and lean while her twin was short and …
I was probably about 13 when it happened. There was a teenage female model sitting on an elevated area on one side of the classroom while my art class drew and painted her image.
What does it mean to be a self-taught artist? I call myself one, but I only mean it in the sense that I am not formally trained as an artist.