Graduation June 1989. After job hunting over the summer (I was still working part-time at GSU) and finding a full-time job in the College of Business, I pondered what to do next. I decided I needed to go back to basics on my own. I bought how-to art books or checked them out of the library.
I relearned the bones and muscles of the human body. I pored over figure drawing instruction. I studied Perspective. None of this seemed to help.
We had moved way out to Marietta for a few years. This broke the car transmission, driving downtown and back everyday in stop and go traffic. In 1990 we moved back into town. Our apartment was below street level. The sun room was my bedroom, looking out onto a retaining wall made of railroad ties. I would sleep with the windows open. Button massaging my head.
My best friend J. went to law school during this time.
Painting in the sunroom bedroom.
My three self-portraits that I kept for a long time. Hair up. Hair down. Holding Mooshie.
My painting became so tight and overly controlled. The complete opposite of my BFA paintings. Intense scrutiny of details, like eyelashes and my glasses.
My subject matter remained figural, mainly myself. The head thrown back. I did a couple versions of this.
The girl jumping around playing with a dog. I sometimes tried to save moments.
Once when I was driving on this road that ran along the railroad tracks from downtown Atlanta, I was going past this art studio. The building was colorfully painted and there were metal sculptures of dinosaurs, among other things, in the yard. A young woman in a bikini was jumping around on the steps playing with a dog. For some reason this scene made an impression on me and I sketched it and later painted it.