I can’t recall the first time I fell upon Audrey Kawasaki’s work. But I distinctly remember thinking if I were an artist I’d want to be like her.
My friends and I are at constant ends with one another. Them insisting I am an “artist”, me fighting the very label. ” To me”, I explain, “an artist is somehow who has honed their style,technique and what the message they want to convey in their art. Their voice is solidified.” I believe this makes there work instantly recognizable as belonging to them.
My work is in its infancy. I have not even found a medium I prefer. Everything I do is a hodge podge that sometimes works and often falls dismally. I am widely creative and will continue to produce art but I don’t feel I’ve reached a place I’m comfortable calling myself artist. Creative Curator, Hells Yes!
PRPSA is the only friend that agrees I’m not an artist. He isn’t sure I’ll ever obtain the point of pure selflessness to allow people into the dark edges of my insides. Moments necessary, he feels, to obtain full expression as an artist.
Anyway back to Audrey…An Artist. I’d recognize her work anywhere. Sadly, I have yet to add her to my gallery wall. She should be represented.
Her work is otherworldly. Fraught with contradictions it is often both innocent and erotic, attractive and disturbing. Of course she crossed her graphic manga like ladies with Art Nouveau styling (one of my favorite periods). As well as using oil on wood which I believe produces the most interesting skin tones.