watercolor, inks, collage, pen, and photo transfer on sketchbook paper
Oh my! What would they say to that Boomer in me, who is ever ready to get up and go to take that magical mystery tour? Mom and Grandma, want to come along?
I was a Hippy of sorts, back in the sixties, a flower child of the Love generation. It’s deeply wired in my neurochemistry. I gave up smoking dope about 35 years ago when I discovered that meditation was a whole lot better way to get high. But the rest of it – the music – the freedom – the feeling that we could create a new way of living, the connection with other people of my generation. . . All that still turns me on, and so when I see a bus like the one above (there are still a fair number of such vehicles here where I live in California) or tie die shirts or hear a Hendrix song or a million other reminders that still exist in our fractured culture, I get a twinge of pride that that is MY generation. And my mother (at 89) and I still have the ability to review that era through the vastly different prisms of her generation and mine. So here I am still rebelling and loving it! Art is first and foremost rebellion and artists the champions of rebellion. Makes me want to go out and fling paint at something!