As my collection of works has grown over the years, I've often wondered what would become of them when I'm gone...what I want to become of them when I'm gone. I've taken great care to build them to last and I've given every consideration to their survival by using archival materials and glues, gessoing before painting, sealing the glass against bugs and dust, even constructing the dream box/bed box with parts that will unscrew for future transport. Unless there's a natural disaster or accident they will surely outlive me.
Unlike most artists I know, I'm an outsider in the art world. I create for myself and it's my great luxury to be able to wait until the mood strikes. It's my therapy as much as my joy. But, since I don't sell, and without children to pass them down to I often wonder who will care for them and treasure them as I have? Perhaps these are the things everyone contemplates in middle-age. But then again...I'm not a mother...these are my only creations...and so I think of these things.
When I see photographs in flea markets I'm immediately drawn to them - I'm intrigued but also sad. Time marches on - one generation replaces another until, finally, everyone who ever knew you personally is gone. I think of Pere Lachaise cemetary in Paris and all the beautiful crypts with broken doors that have been left unattended, unvisited...for how long?
This piece from 2007 was born from these thoughts. A small monument to friendship...to the women who became my closest friends, and to women I never knew whose portraits I found on a flea market table.
art & photographs (c) C.Andrako All Rights Reserved