It's not been an easy day work-wise. Committing the colours to the sky has been a step into the void in some ways, because once you establish a pattern to the gradation, you have to continue with it. since I'm making this bit up as I go along, I've felt a little unsure as to how to do it. you can see here that I've formed a sort of horizon sun rise thing..it will hopefully gradiate (is that a word?) upwards to make a very dark blue..this will show up the flying sheep to effect. the foreground which at present is suggesting snow has yet to be decided.As you know, I love symbolism and metaphor.Sometimes the basic symbology behind a composition is in place before I begin (as was the main subject and the sheep) But the lit trees have come into the picture recently. Referring back to yesterdays post about 'The inner light'.. I think they might symbolise the fact of physicality ( the planted tree) and the spiritual ( the lights). Of course the artists definition is only that. You may have your own ideas and inspiration? why not let me know?
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4 comments:
Wish I did but I'm afraid I have to keep all my inspiration to myself, as it is usually so limited. lol
It's one of the worst things when you want to do something - being unsure. Eventually it blocks me and I stop altogether.
I'm really enjoying this work. I'm never good with symbolism and meaning myself, but I enjoy hearing what meaning you put into it as you work.
DM...Not if Squeak has anything to do with it!!
Sue..Lovely to hear from you again.I'm glad you're enjoying this..I think I am too.
As of now, I see the ball of wool as your life, one portion rolled neatly, the rest left unfinished, unknown or perhaps just entangled. I think the trees represent those around you, your family and friends, with the goodness in their watch over you shown through the lights. The sheep may be dreams for the future, things yet unaccomplished in your life, hovering above all. A sunrise in the background represents new possibilities for all and perhaps a reminder of the continuation of life, maybe even something about the monotony of it all, day-in, day-out? That would also be suggested by the ball of wool, wound up so tight you can't tell where it begins or ends. At least, that is how I've read into it thus far.
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