I painted this the day before I began grad school last year. That was almost exactly a year ago. In a way, I am studying exactly what I paint. Right now, this very moment, I am finishing a masters presentation about how children’s early experiences of maltreatment effect their attachment behavior. This semester I am going to work on a qualitative research project understanding how women’s prenatal experiences influence whether or not they use substances throughout their pregnancies. In a way that is what the painting is about as well. If only you could just keep everything bad out, and pick a child ripe off of tree growing from the ground.
That is strange isn’t it? The metaphors your mind makes without you knowing it.
When I was a small child, I truly believed that all we needed was one great generation. If we could all just work together, figure our lives out, have children, and raise them the right way, it would begin a cascade from one generation to the next. The kindness would permeate and there would be no more evil. It was so simple and is still easy to remember and explain in childish terms. I wondered why we hadn’t just done it already. If a seven year old could figure it out, why hadn’t the adults?
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