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This piece is a response to the poem "Demons in the Fire" written by my Word and Image partner Deb Simmons:
Demons in the Fire
When it’s dark outside
And I can’t sleep
I steal downstairs
And watch the flames.
I will my demons
To savor the logs
Compress themselves in
The grains of wood.
My fire curls tight and
Whips with force,
In swirls and spirals;
It twists up the chimney.
The heat from the fire
turns demons to ash;
then I climb back upstairs
and sleep.
This is my first attempt at painting fire. It's a very interesting subject in so many ways. I love sitting in front of a fire and watching the flames. I think of all the verbs associated with fire... flames can flicker, dance, and soar; they can lick, waver, and leap; they can even glimmer, glint and flare. Fires mesmerize me. Fire can heal, and it can kill. It is beautiful, and yet can create horror. It is an element, a tool, and an art. It is basic and complex. It is if nothing else, fascinating.
For years now I've contemplated painting flames. How do you capture so much movement and still allow it to feel like movement? I took umpteen photographs and studied how the camera captured the flames. I looked at the colors, the shapes, the hard and soft lines, and all of the angles. And finally, finally, I took a big breath and simply started to paint.
I normally would not be satisfied with a face this undeveloped, but it felt so right. It is not gender specific, and not necessarily easy to read emotionally. The more I pondered it, the more I realized it was exactly what this peaces needed.