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I wasn't sure I like this piece when I first made it, and I'm still not sure I like it. I had nicknamed it "feminine" just so I could differentiate it from all the other "new" and "untitled" images I had stored on my harddrive and backup CD's, and it stayed that way until September 2002 when I decided it was time to title all these "Untitled" pieces and enter them in some competitions. So I pulled out my trusty Dictionary of Symbols again, and as I noted everything in this piece, the word "childhood" stood out in the interpretation of flowers. So I started thinking about how all of the elements could relate to childhood. Silver is the color of purity and clear conscience, pure intent, open-heartedness, and the object of all desires. Dolls (which aren't found as a listing in the dictionary I have, but since I can think for myself on occaision...) are generally used to represent childhood, especially a feminine childhood, and seem to have their own kind of innocence in their lifeless representation of life. Flowers, again, represent the feminine, but also childhood and "paradisal innocence", the fleeting nature of life, spring, dawn, and youth. Lastly, blue is mentioned as an "insubstantial color" associated with pre-pubescence and the non-manifested, in its relation to water it symbolizes the feminine, and dark blue is the color of dreams. After I noted all of this, I thought of how often maturity from childhood is mourned by artists and people in general, how childhood is idealized and fantasized until it becomes this almost sugary dream-state, and that the loss of childhood is somehow horrible and undesirable. I don't really understand that way of thinking, and when I realized that this piece, with all of the sybolism it involves, could be taken as another lament for the loss of innocence, I knew I had to give it a more positive title. Several came to mind, most of them kind of elementary sounding one-liners, but out of nowhere, this long, drawn out verse arrived. I don't claim to be a poet by any stretch - I've always been better at painting a picture with paint than painting it with words - but this title seems poetic to me. And it fits more with my interpretation of the state of growing out of childhood. It brings in the idea that being an adult is okay, pretty cool most of the time, in fact, and it's part of being alive (hence "the cycle continues"). The maturing into womanhood of a young girl is often referred to as a blooming, where the beauty of the woman becomes full in the daylight of early adulthood. To me, the time before reaching maturity really falls into the dim light of early dawn. You're there, you can see, but things aren't too clear, you can't really comprehend everything that's going on around you, and you're generally too self-absorbed to care. Some people think that the coming light is too harsh, but I don't. Sure, you don't have any responsibility as a kid, but you don't have true independence either. Some people may read this statement and think, "She must have had an awful childhood if she likes being an adult better." The truth is actually the opposite: I had a great childhood. I was a middle-class kid who had all of her needs and most of her wants taken care of by two loving, supportive, and encouraging parents. I have never suffered a loss greater than a family pet - that didn't take place until I was in my teens - and I knew I was loved by a large extended family. One couldn't ask for a better childhood. But, I still like being an adult better - even if people who don't know me always think I'm about 10 years younger. |