Checking in a week later

I am able to use my studio walls to map out a larger art history project.

Every day I research, try to write 2000 words, and paint the images that come up for me. I barely do anything else. Thank God I have a work grant and have to show up in the kitchen to prep meals, as it is the only way I meet people. It's been cold and rainy and that helps keep the focus tight and inside.

First I struggled with authorship and having the right to write my own art history. One quote on my wall is: I will not be afraid to imagine new narratives for famous old works. I think this is going to...this has to involve sex, religion and politics.
Calling the hundreds of female sculptures found from the Paleolithic period "fertility figures" seems a bit dismissive to me. How were the distorted body forms affecting the women of that time? Some think the works- the tiny stone/bone carvings and clay sculptures- are the product of women artists working on self portraits without mirrors. That would explain the extreme foreshortening, the tiny feet and the almost non-descriptive heads. The research woke up my "inner Barbie", and all the vexing standards for female beauty that still haunt women.

my constant companion

never done, never good enough

my inner Barbie