Scars Abound (Enough to go Around) Print

Scars. God knows I have plenty. I am a transplant survivor having received half a liver from my sister when I was 26. Between that, hip surgeries, hand surgeries, and all the normal tears and puncture of a ceaseless artists, my skin is fraught and textured. But these scars, though they remind me of so much suffering and agony, they are my battle wounds and I wear them with pride. There is a beauty in these scars-- they are the markings of a survivor. They are makings of victories in wars I wish were never waged, but fought all the same. Hopefully, this painting will find itself with someone who wears their scars, physical or mental, with the same silent pride. The "beige" part of the painting is nicked and puckered. It has a fleshy feel to it. The edges are built up wax from months of building and removing layers and extends from the canvas about a 1/4 inch. This is an innovative process using cold wax and oil paint. I place layer upon layer of cold wax with oil paint, scraped with ribs to create patterns, and then shave the layers away to reveal the colors and patterns beneath. As far as I know, this process is uncommon and rare. I tend to use a minimum of 5-10 layers. I add layer upon layer until I forget what colors I used, colors often inspired by the Montana landscape, thus giving a brilliant surprise upon my first scrape. I pull layers away, finding the image beneath. I add layers. I take away, I add. I get myself into a conundrum, a problem, and I add and take layers away. Sometimes the reveal, the completion is in the initial scrape or pull. Sometimes it takes months. I often take the shavings and add them back into the painting or use them in other pieces.