ARTIST'S STATEMENT

My initial clue about what it’s like to be an artist occurred at age 6. My mother had taken me to my first day of Grade One. All the children were given photo-copied drawings of the characters from the Dick and Jane reader; mine was Baby Sally. I remember proudly colouring it in, oblivious to all else going on around me, enthusiastically choosing my favourite crayons. When done, I proudly passed it to my mother. Her immediate reaction was—how shall I put it?—utter horror. “Why did you paint her hands green?!” she asked, disapproval written all over her face. My first experience of art criticism. Realizing that what was so obvious, delightful, meaningful and personal to me could be considered odd to others was a bit of a blow, but the experience has served me well.

I progressed through the years from boxes of crayons and pencil crayons, through pots of finger paints and pans of tempera paints, paint by numbers, colouring books, ballpoint pens, oil pastels, and probably whole forests of scrap paper; eventually finding my way to art school’s oil paint on canvas. Since then, I have turned to acrylics, gouache, dry pastel, pen and ink, Super-Sculpey, Paperclay, fabric, beads and feathers—you name it!

My preoccupations can be traced through my various series, moving from intense domesticity (Chair Series and doll making) when I was raising my daughter, through a delight in exploring the outside world (Maritimes Series), to an expression of my search for spiritual connection (Flowers for Healing). In my exploration of the subconscious through mixed media, I have moved from a representational style to a more abstract form; from flat to textured surfaces, as informed by my work in textiles. My bright colours have become more muted, even dark; the imagery more dreamlike than in my past work. Art, like life, must change and evolve in order to maintain any real meaning.

I make art because it’s part of who I am; it’s how I express myself and communicate with the outside world. I thank you for exploring my website and hope that you find elements that stir you in some way.

And in case you were wondering, I coloured Baby Sally’s hands green because I gave her gloves! Such is the power of an artist.

Lynne Ciacco
September 2006