Alright... Who did this?
I'm sitting here waiting for paint to dry - literally. Since I've decided to blog very other Monday, which would be tomorrow (I set this goal on the 3rd of January) and I really don't want to get into something else in the studio today until I get the present task at hand completed, I decided to do my posting now...
Something I've been thinking about today is my signature - the one I use on my artwork. I don't remember if I've ever addressed this on my blog before or not and I'm not going to look through the archives to see if I have... so, here's my wacky thoughts about my signature, no one else's - just mine.
I've rarely, and I mean rarely, signed murals. I usually only do it when the client absolutely insists, and even then I've talked my way out of it a few times. Why? Okay, get ready to enter my weird and wacky world... Because the signature turns it into a "painting". Huh...? Wha...? Told you it was weird and wacky. You see, many of my murals are entire environments - when you enter the room, you enter a "place" . It may be artificial, but for the time you're in the room, it's a "place" where a playful porpoise peeks through a porthole or a fairy princess and her unicorn watch over the little girl as she sleeps at night. See what I mean...?
Okay... so that's why I don't like to sign murals. It breaks the moment of magic. But if you insist, I mean really insist, and I can find a place to hide the signature, I'll do it.
Now, for my easel work, that's a different kind of wacky. Years and years ago, I used to sign my name with a small "L" (lower case "l"), just "lois". I got this idea from a movie I saw with Ida Lupino. All I remember now is that she was an artist who signed her name, "rae". Why? I don't remember. I just liked the idea and besides, at that time I hated the capitol, cursive letter "L".
Plus, my most awesome artist aunt, ena grant, signed her name that way, too. In my world, my ena was my idol, my bestest, best-ever anything, ever. If I recall correctly, she said she signed her name that way because she was not more important than her artwork. A thought that I admired very much because it makes perfect sense to me.
I can always put my name on the back of a canvas, I don't need to authenticate it by signing the front. But, I had developed a signature for my artwork over the years, it's kind of a monogram - an "L" and a "P" that swirl together. I would still try to make it as unobtrusive as possible, sometimes "hiding" it. Today, though, I got to thinking (as I was deciding whether or not to sign a drawing...) why not just go back to "lois"? Since I've been married twice, my surname has changed 3 times in my lifetime so far, but I've always been "lois". I'm not distinguished by my maiden name and the marital surnames only distinguish me as the mother of each daughter from each marriage or the wives I've been. But I've always been "lois"... "lois" is who I am and who I'll always be. I guess that settles it.
Something I've been thinking about today is my signature - the one I use on my artwork. I don't remember if I've ever addressed this on my blog before or not and I'm not going to look through the archives to see if I have... so, here's my wacky thoughts about my signature, no one else's - just mine.
I've rarely, and I mean rarely, signed murals. I usually only do it when the client absolutely insists, and even then I've talked my way out of it a few times. Why? Okay, get ready to enter my weird and wacky world... Because the signature turns it into a "painting". Huh...? Wha...? Told you it was weird and wacky. You see, many of my murals are entire environments - when you enter the room, you enter a "place" . It may be artificial, but for the time you're in the room, it's a "place" where a playful porpoise peeks through a porthole or a fairy princess and her unicorn watch over the little girl as she sleeps at night. See what I mean...?
Okay... so that's why I don't like to sign murals. It breaks the moment of magic. But if you insist, I mean really insist, and I can find a place to hide the signature, I'll do it.
Now, for my easel work, that's a different kind of wacky. Years and years ago, I used to sign my name with a small "L" (lower case "l"), just "lois". I got this idea from a movie I saw with Ida Lupino. All I remember now is that she was an artist who signed her name, "rae". Why? I don't remember. I just liked the idea and besides, at that time I hated the capitol, cursive letter "L".
Plus, my most awesome artist aunt, ena grant, signed her name that way, too. In my world, my ena was my idol, my bestest, best-ever anything, ever. If I recall correctly, she said she signed her name that way because she was not more important than her artwork. A thought that I admired very much because it makes perfect sense to me.
I can always put my name on the back of a canvas, I don't need to authenticate it by signing the front. But, I had developed a signature for my artwork over the years, it's kind of a monogram - an "L" and a "P" that swirl together. I would still try to make it as unobtrusive as possible, sometimes "hiding" it. Today, though, I got to thinking (as I was deciding whether or not to sign a drawing...) why not just go back to "lois"? Since I've been married twice, my surname has changed 3 times in my lifetime so far, but I've always been "lois". I'm not distinguished by my maiden name and the marital surnames only distinguish me as the mother of each daughter from each marriage or the wives I've been. But I've always been "lois"... "lois" is who I am and who I'll always be. I guess that settles it.
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