Too much hot gluing. Ugh! Need a break. Couldn’t resist a little studio play. I bought these gourds at Farmers Market. To scrub off the dirt was a delightful diversion.
I’m not sure what they want to be, if anything. Maybe it’s okay for them to just be … just as they are. They please me, assembled as a still life. Their bulgy roundness evokes the swell of pregnancy. Except they’re empty—bulging with an uncanny presence of absence. Is there potency in emptiness, I wonder?
The circle is archetypal. Feminine, too. Surely, it’s always been. Ever resistant to linear-inspired geometers throughout history, who tried to “square the circle.” Even Leonardo’s ingenious solution—Vitruvian Man—was only 99.8% accuracy. Turns out the mathematical challenge was flawed from the get-go and finally declared impossible in 1882 due to a theorem that pi is transcendental, rather than algebraic. Whatever THAT means.