It was a sunny afternoon and I decided to make a picture of the pile of half-folded laundry staring at me on the dining room table. I worked on it for a while shifting the shapes around to find a pleasing image. Still unsatisfied I decided to sleep on it.
I put the picture away and brought it out the next day in the studio. I took it apart piece by piece until only the table and the space behind was left. I went back to the dining room table for some new ideas.
On the table I noticed the fruit bowl and a white bag. Then I noticed the little empty sake cup that rested in the shadow of the bowl. I found a little bit of a narrative and worked with it.
The bowl and the sake cup remind me of me and my baby girl. A mother bowl protecting her baby cup. I am amazed at how personal this arrangement feels to me- the empty cup, the white bag, the soft gray afternoon light on the table. The still life was a random selection of observations and then it transformed into a story about two people.
Has this ever happened to you? Something random and everyday can somehow become steeped in meaning? I’d love to read your story.