On the wall at the foot of our bed, was a group of four vintage black and white photographs of Lake Como that Russell bought at a yard sale. I framed and hung them there as gentle reminder of a place to which we agreed someday, we would make a trip together. A trip not yet realized, but everyday for quite a few years, I lay in bed looking at them meditatively. My wandering mind began converting the images, separating shapes and assigning new colors, revising many times, readying to making prints.
A year ago after our big move, I executed my plan. In making mode, I pulled out a favorite book on Art Deco from our shelf, its period photographs of interiors compelling. Selecting rooms in the book, I began simplifying the photographs, drawing, reducing them to puzzle-like compositions.
Transferring them onto a plastic sheet, I cut out walls, floors, windows, chairs, lamps, drapes, blankets, framed pictures, mirrors, vases and figurines. Inking each shape, wet cut-outs reassembled and passed through the press. Color values close together, mapping stages of an interior dream in a sequence of states.
