A dilapidated New York high rise Loft…… To kiss the skies with the Loft, you have to walk, your skin brushing against graffiti bathed walls.
The scarce light on the street highlights a woman in black , black tights, black bejeweled hair pins barely keeping the brunette locks conjoined. There is black lace extending the weathered hem of her crepe skirt. The heels click clack casting eccentric shadows on the walls.
You ride a cast iron cage like elevator to rise to the Loft. As you reach it, you first notice a touch of neon green from years of moisture on the walls.
There are exposed pipes and electrical work; the stark skeleton of the aged structure completely bared!
The dusky sheer curtains on the elongated windows allow the energies outside and inside to kiss and collide!
The black lace of the curtains invites everything outside to come in and touch its lashes lining the edges.
The transparent laboratory lights in the Loft dance a slow a dance with the light falling from the sun.
My art would flow from my bed to my sink. The usage of the sink , bed and canvas will merge …
PS – So far I have convinced my husband of at least one element of the retirement fantasy ; ‘high rise’.
Piece is 12 by 36 inches.