Mark Grundy

The paintings you see before your senses, have been excavated from experience, the tumult of emotion, the known, the unknown, conundrums jettisoned from necessity to make sense of the past and future. These fractions of life in pigment and pen came to life due to the machinery of the will. An organic intuition, a feeling, an idea, an urge to seek continuity and make an indentation in existence. This is the arena of art, reactionary, archaic, steeped in myth. The emotions are stirred and they ask questions, what do they mean, and then possibly, where are we going? My answer could be simple? They mean everything and nothing due to the nature of impermanence, but the archetypes are not simple conjurers of deceitful entertainment but of illumination. Art is the rendering of a hidden world, the world of rumination and regret, fantasy and fact, and when the forms of creation emit the last of their light into the darkness of memory, the masks well worn seek new meaning.