What I mean is that throughout history, silhouettes have been used to preserve moments and capture memories. And they always seem to have an unencumbered simplicity about them that communicates nothing but an effortless, humble, everyday kind of beauty. Perhaps this is their nature... they are frank in their intentions, source and purpose... and their very presence is so often a testimony of a familial love. Maybe all these things are why I love them... they are unpretentious and made for a home, the antithesis of a vacant gallery space... and yet they are just as lovely in composition and form as a great work of 'fine art.'
And ya know what the most amusing thing is... hidden behind these simple silhouettes lies hours and hours of studio time, fine paper swatches, beeswax test strips and multiple silhouette sketches. No one will ever know how many 'test runs' were put put to critique and failed before the ones you see made it onto the canvas.
I guess nothing worth doing is ever easy.
