d t i t r ^ b U ^ bhtt Wedding Helmet—1976 Sky Cephalopod—1984, Penguinarium, Washington Park Zoo, Portland Ivry ach piece that I make is an approximation of what I am becoming at the time. Each piece is a different combination of past lives. Each piece represents a death of some part of me. Some pieces I never know. It's like when you arrive at where you started and discover the place for the first time. [ M W icf-Kny vtwny > Sand Sh& polish 4 - 4- ch x J My father got lost in the woods one lime. He was afraid but trying not to let on to himself. Then he came upon footprints in the snowfresh .. .six feet apart. A giant! He followed them for quite a while until they were joined by another set of tracks, these more normal ones. Two people now! More following and then another set! Well, you get riie picture. TheI irst circle he was scared, and running, and didn't even know it. Then he slowed down and fina lly caught up with all of himself. Sometimes it's like that. In a semi-waking state, when I was about 10, I expe-| rienceda microcosm; that is, I e x p e r ie n c e d th e c o n sciousness of being an atom | at the edge of a ledge run-1 ning around my room. How- i ever, my experience was not of its smallness but of the enormity of the space within it. It was like being sucked into a small funnel only to emerge out of a very large funne l, one that encompassed the universe. I experienced a vision so much larger than myself that my eye became stretched. It was a visual stretching of my psyche and spirit in a way I had no words or knowledge to describe. I think that was the beginning of my life as an artist: the combination of a v isua l/re lig ious /sc ien tific / surreal experience. My imagery is hard to explain. I work primarily subconsciously Io evoke what I don't know, something I can't yet see. I want it to swim and fly. I wont it to be in motion. I want to hear its resonance. My language consists of edges, hard and soft, one form evolving into another; the juxtaposition of this softness against this hardness and how they embrace and re flec t each other. I am striving for an image which is both too simple and too complex, something which takes an intu itive leap to comprehend. I want to illuminate the numinous. Young Willy down in Tucson called it the S liding Paradox. Another friend at the time, with a Ascending Numen Woman—1982, Office, Southwest Portland By Keith Jellum Calligraphy by Elizabeth Anderson Tim Braun
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