Old age is a privilege denied to many
Reflections on what makes us human
What makes us human? The question was posed to me as the overarching theme of this project. As I was initially overwhelmed by the weight of such a philosophical question, I turned to other people for their thoughts. A variety of short texts kept my phone buzzing for the remainder of the day – apparently people were more inspired than I. Reflecting on the collection of introspective, straight-forward, and snarky answers, a common theme threaded all of the responses. Well, all but the guy who quipped, “What makes me human is that when I jump off of a swing, I always come crashing down on the gravel” … to which I retorted, “No, Pete, that’s called gravity.” But, I digress.
What makes us human? Helping other humans. Soul, heart, purpose. Story-telling. Connecting to nature. Curiosity and sharing experiences. Prayer, love, relationships. Conscience. Mistakes and redemption. Emotion and heartbeat. Ability to reason. Flesh and soul.
A variety of life stories rendered these particular reflections on humanity. The ability to share in these journeys is what makes life meaningful. To me, my grandparents are four of the most important stories, each with a lifetime of memories and experiences painted into nooks and crannies of their features.
I styled these pieces to create a lifelike quality to the paint, rather than simply an imitation of a person. A focus on particular wrinkles or highlights on the skin transformed the portrait into thick movements of paint. The medium takes on a life of its own, rather than simply the means to an end product. The muted tones create a fleshy quality, and the thickness of the paint imitates the wrinkles of the skin – they tell of time and angst and joy and life.
Through the “unfinished” quality, I intentionally want to acknowledge the fallibility of portraiture; never will I capture all complexities of an individual. Portraits can provide commentary or insight into certain corners of life, but never a precise representation of it all. And so, I continue to return to the canvas to explore the stories that give meaning to humanity.
Reflections on what makes us human
What makes us human? The question was posed to me as the overarching theme of this project. As I was initially overwhelmed by the weight of such a philosophical question, I turned to other people for their thoughts. A variety of short texts kept my phone buzzing for the remainder of the day – apparently people were more inspired than I. Reflecting on the collection of introspective, straight-forward, and snarky answers, a common theme threaded all of the responses. Well, all but the guy who quipped, “What makes me human is that when I jump off of a swing, I always come crashing down on the gravel” … to which I retorted, “No, Pete, that’s called gravity.” But, I digress.
What makes us human? Helping other humans. Soul, heart, purpose. Story-telling. Connecting to nature. Curiosity and sharing experiences. Prayer, love, relationships. Conscience. Mistakes and redemption. Emotion and heartbeat. Ability to reason. Flesh and soul.
A variety of life stories rendered these particular reflections on humanity. The ability to share in these journeys is what makes life meaningful. To me, my grandparents are four of the most important stories, each with a lifetime of memories and experiences painted into nooks and crannies of their features.
I styled these pieces to create a lifelike quality to the paint, rather than simply an imitation of a person. A focus on particular wrinkles or highlights on the skin transformed the portrait into thick movements of paint. The medium takes on a life of its own, rather than simply the means to an end product. The muted tones create a fleshy quality, and the thickness of the paint imitates the wrinkles of the skin – they tell of time and angst and joy and life.
Through the “unfinished” quality, I intentionally want to acknowledge the fallibility of portraiture; never will I capture all complexities of an individual. Portraits can provide commentary or insight into certain corners of life, but never a precise representation of it all. And so, I continue to return to the canvas to explore the stories that give meaning to humanity.