Description
Acrylic paint, paper, found objects, digital collage on canvas. 41"x53" Framed.
Made in 2025. This mixed media painting layers memory with fragments of urban life, creating a vivid meditation on nostalgia and impermanence. Dominating the composition is the impression of a car, half-obscured, as if glimpsed through the haze of time. Around it, textures press forward like weathered fragments of experience.
Beneath these layers, the words People’s Drug emerge in red, a reference to the local pharmacy Jenny frequented as a child. This text, both literal and personal, grounds the piece in place and memory while simultaneously evoking the ubiquity of American consumer signage. The name becomes less about commerce and more about the residue of childhood: a point of return, a marker of familiarity in an otherwise shifting landscape.
The overlapping imagery suggests the way memories accumulate—not as clear snapshots, but as layered impressions where details fade, blur, or collide. The car, the signage, the stains of paint and paper: together they form an environment both personal and collective, intimate yet universal. People’s Drug speaks to how everyday spaces imprint themselves on memory, transformed over time into symbols of belonging, identity, and loss. Through its collision of the mundane and the expressive, the work captures the fragile persistence of the past within the flux of the present.
Description
Acrylic paint, paper, found objects, digital collage on canvas. 41"x53" Framed.
Made in 2025. This mixed media painting layers memory with fragments of urban life, creating a vivid meditation on nostalgia and impermanence. Dominating the composition is the impression of a car, half-obscured, as if glimpsed through the haze of time. Around it, textures press forward like weathered fragments of experience.
Beneath these layers, the words People’s Drug emerge in red, a reference to the local pharmacy Jenny frequented as a child. This text, both literal and personal, grounds the piece in place and memory while simultaneously evoking the ubiquity of American consumer signage. The name becomes less about commerce and more about the residue of childhood: a point of return, a marker of familiarity in an otherwise shifting landscape.
The overlapping imagery suggests the way memories accumulate—not as clear snapshots, but as layered impressions where details fade, blur, or collide. The car, the signage, the stains of paint and paper: together they form an environment both personal and collective, intimate yet universal. People’s Drug speaks to how everyday spaces imprint themselves on memory, transformed over time into symbols of belonging, identity, and loss. Through its collision of the mundane and the expressive, the work captures the fragile persistence of the past within the flux of the present.