This painting explores the ways we think about memory. First, a literary approach, with a famous passage from Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time (also known as Remembrance of Things Past), in which he bites into a madeleine and experiences overwhelmingly vivid memories. Second, a scientific approach, with images of the olfactory nerve (which carries information from the nose to the brain), a sagittal view of the brain, and a pyramidal neuron (an important cell type in memory). Science, art and literature all have valuable things to convey about how we remember and forget.
I made this one a little differently from the others in my shop. I first laid down the Proust quote, using a glue-like resist. Then I added a light layer of indigo ink and water and allowed it to dry. I then removed the first resist and added another layer, with the shapes of the neurons and brain, and added black ink and water over that. After everything dried, I removed the second resist. The final image shows both words and cells as layered and half-seen, like memories.
Yupo is a non-absorbent "paper" made of 100% polypropylene, so instead of sinking into the surface, the ink stays on top and forms amazing patterns as it dries. Made with layers of indigo ink and water, this painting reveals fascinating shapes and shades in light and dark.
Overall size 18 x 24 inches, including white mat and backing board. Standard size for easy framing. Will look great in a simple black or silver frame. Signed on the mat. Absolutely unique.
PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL PAINTING, NOT A PRINT. THERE IS ONLY ONE
The quote in full:
No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. ... Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? ... And suddenly the memory revealed itself.