Kitty’s “Exit” painting spoke to me. I’m not sure I understand all she said, but I nodded and stroked my chin so she would think I knew. She’s quiet now, introspective, as paintings sometimes get, so I can stare a while without her becoming self conscious.
Two figures— dancers to me— stand on a platform suspended from an umbilical cord that runs up from Birth (an ovoid squiggly womb shape) to Death (the “exit” sign). One figure probes its bellybutton, no doubt pondering the umbilical cord that once attached mother. The other figure holds a dramatic pose, leaning over the edge, eyes forced closed, and hands shaping a graceful, ritualized symbol for an emotion the dancer has not felt personally. To train your body to hold poses that so universally represent a singular emotion is to abandon the possibility of feeling that emotion yourself, at least the way other people feel it. And that may be O.K., since it’s all pretty much about suffering anyway.
Another thought: both figures seem to focus their energy downward, toward the womb and its organic, mysterious curves and undulations, toward origins and the vast red pool at the bottom of it all— the Unknown. Looming over their heads is simple, logical clarity— an “exit” sign. All our lives we perplex ourselves with the past and with the unknowable while the obvious truth goes unnoticed just over our heads: we are riding an umbilical bus toward Death.
By the way, “exit” is sort of backwards— it reads more clearly in the rearview mirror, like the front of an ambulance closing in on us.
Thanks for reading. Cheers,
Painting by Katherine “Kitty” Gibbons, photo by Boo-Creative.
Nice try. But it is so obviously about the meditations of a mother and the contemplative process of birth… it is even pink and blue for goodness sake.
hee-hee. Just had to toss something into the mix.
Brilliant! Thank you, Momma Burgoyne. So… in art and life, one person’s exit is actually another’s birth? Is this karma or one of those revolving doors in hotels that my brother always wedged his foot in so I’d slam into the glass? 🙂
I’d vote revolving door. In a sort of “sometimes you are the windshield, sometimes you are the bug” kind of way…. but I view all of parenthood in that windshield-bug way.
The birth of a baby is also about the birth of a mother…. or, the birth of a baby is about the death of a non-mother. Or, um, the birth of a baby is about the evolution of a non-mother into a mother?!?!
reading it again, even more beautiful…of course, i had no idea what i was painting at the time…just having fun…thanks, gh, for making my painting beautiful.
Kitty Kat! No one, save maybe the films of Don Hertzfeldt, has given the stickfigure more pathos. Keep painting! 🙂 GH
bizarre! love it….now let’s see if Kitty can follow where that bus is leading…the message! 🙂 Boo
I don’t think any of us have a choice: we’re all waiting at the same bus stop for the proverbial train. 😉 Thanks for reading! GH