Dali

I have always touted Salvador Dali as one of my favorite artists. I could get lost in the worlds of his pieces - creating stories to accompany each upside down swan or melted clock. Something about the disturbing nature of his work appeals to the macabre in me.

I did hear once, that there was a serial kill who murdered people and posed them like the paintings of Dali - or maybe that was just a Criminal Minds episode. And although I love the slight disturbing nature of his works, I do not love the idea of art being used as inspiration for murder. I could honestly spend hours lost in thought, exploring these worlds from his twisted mind - but never thoughts of murder or maiming. Perhaps more a morbid curiosity of a mind so contrary to my almost always optimistic outlook. It's something in his darkness that challenges me. Makes me think beyond the surface, beyond what is seen and understood. Something that makes me wonder about worlds created from thin air.

So much of my work is just my life, retold with a few adjectives. No real imagination to create entire scenes of absurdity. Just musings on my days and wrestlings with my relationships. But perhaps, that's all his work is, too. Elephants and swans, a house burning in the background, a horse on stilts, an eyeball. Maybe his work is just like mine - another artists just trying to make sense of the life we've been given, the best way we know how.