I swim like a stone. Just go to the bottom of the pool, hold my breath, and walk along the bottom until I hit shallow water. Or drown. There is nothing like the fear of drowning. (Except fear of heights. And wet asphalt. And the look on my wife’s face when she’s hungry.) Alyssa Monks seems fixated on water. The bath tub. (Not HItchcock’s psycho shower) But it makes for very interesting paintings. More interesting than you might imagine. It has to do with distortion, and line, and soap.
Is there something about the Spanish? Or is it the man himself. Goya seems like such a contemporary painter. His work is both political, graphic, nightmarish. He understands horror. And sex. And the dark soul of the twentieth century. Although he died in 1828.
She was raised during WWII. She saw the fear on people’s faces when the bombs fell. In Germany. When her world was collapsing around her. And the horror. Who knows what she saw. Was that the norm for human behaviour? Whose to say. But her work is filled with that terror. The same as a Spanish painter, Goya
Jeremy Enecio’s work involves the combination of fantasy and horror. Some of it is startling. There is no humour. Unless I missed something. The work is devilishly serious. And sometimes gruesome. I would say that a lot of his work is associated with comic books. There are narratives involved in almost every piece.
This is a whim. I was looking for a kind of material for a collage when I happened on a curtain sight. And saw these curtains. It wasn’t an artist’s sight. It was a store’s sight. I thought they were clever enough to expose. I’m a little surprised an artist hasn’t come up with this idea.
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