I love to paint people, especially women. When I started this painting she was just a face, and I did not have intentions toward it. As her face developed she had such purpose and defiance in her features. Her stare was so intense that her lips became pursed. She developed a strong chin and globe-like irises. With all this strength in her face I didn't know what to do with her. I experimented, but no human hair suited her. She sprouted long, soft feathers instead. The animals collected there, combining mammal, bird, and reptile within her.
I think she looks particularly striking when she is viewed up close. She currently hangs in my hallway with all my paintings that don't belong, and I pass her frequently in close proximity. I feel her intensity as I pass. Her eyes draw me to her. I like to look at her up close. In fact, I don’t like her at all from a distance—she invokes strong opinions. The roughness of the paintbrush strokes become her. I am both ashamed of her, and incredibly proud of her. She is yin and yang I suppose. Dark and light. Winter and summer. She is Mother Earth.