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Table of ContentsMy artwork is often a response to my impressions of personal encounters, memories, and relationships to various muses. Inspired by symbols and stimuli related to emotional impression and interpretation; each piece can be simplified into a set of interconnected sentiments and mental states that transpire into a combination of abstract and photo-realistic visual form. My artistic goal is to visually represent the spectrum of understanding within my subjective perception, as to connect myself, as well as my audience, to the intrinsic interrelationships amongst all subjects of the human experience.
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You ask me how I know time...
I do not know it. I revisit it in stories, books, memories and photographs.
Then one day I realize, its name is the same as my own.
I say hello again and again with varying intensity.
"It's all in your head," They tell me.
These words...meant to liberate me from myself.
How do they not realize
That's the worst place it could be?
She is missing.
She is slipping.
Her world is out of my hands.
But I cannot Cease,
for it is , at times, at my fingertips.
I've touched what's tangible,
though never mine to grasp.
I have a fingerprint...a footprint...
somewhere in the sand of her beaches.
I wonder if the tide has come in.
In this world we have created, you will find, that even poison will feed you if you're starving.
We all share this nakedness.
You can cover yours with clothes if you choose.
Society says "yes, please."
Your Body's nakedness grows with age, but it also shrinks, does it not?
You can cut it, hide it, pretend your covers are as bare as you come,
but its still there...
under your shirt, under your skin
You're butt-naked inside and out
A new-born baby forever.
I am a figment of your imagination...
One day...maybe tomorrow or yesterday...
You will wake up...or fall asleep forever...and I will be gone.
You impress me with your face. Not because it's pretty, because its real. With little effort you show 1,000 lives in your gaze. You're never here, but everywhere. I feel you staring at my soul when you look into my eyes. Somehow you found it before I did.
Charlotte Warren
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