Janice Moore
This piece, started over a decade ago, became a sudden repository during a difficult time; a space for raw feelings that had nowhere else to go. Painting flames felt cathartic when no words sufficed and no truth was available. I realized it was only for me. After my angst found a place to be and got recorded, I put it away.
MAJ’s call for Pandemic Art reminded me of this piece. I pulled it out and have been working as quickly as possible to finish in time. It looks very different now.This pain and fear is collective; shared between all of us. It’s all in there, layer over layer. When I feel overwhelmed, I check in to see how everyone in my world is doing, then I paint more flames.
Kathleen March
These four pieces are symptomatic of a search for stability and community when the world is out of kilter and not quite real. However they are not about fear or panic, but instead represent an artistic effort to locate that missing sense of order. The common feature of roundness may reference the virus, but also the Earth and the concept of spinning just slightly out of control.
Geoff Masland
Berri Kramer
This piece was done during the fourth week of staying at home. I knew everyone was out there, but there were many roadblocks between us.
The rust-dyed textiles tell stories from the past. Metal pieces that once offered functional use become reminders of a long ago time. Our current times will one day become a story as well. The vintage Japanese textiles “pay it forward” and honor my mission not to waste even the smallest of scraps (Mottanai).
Jennifer Lee Morrow
My process, bricolage (creating from a diverse range of available materials), functions as a type of record or journal of my daily life. While creating a piece over a period of months that addresses themes important to me, I also incorporate materials and ideas from my day. This piece was started before the pandemic but was influenced by new language to encompass a sense of fragile, tenuous shelter in an uncertain world.
Image at top: Janice L. Moore, Fine. You? (In View of Our Unwelcome & Indiscriminate Visitor), oil on canvas 18 x 24 x ¾ in., 2009 and 2020.