No negative is exempt from becoming grist for the graphite mill. Yes, the dental technician seemed puzzled over my request to take my x-rays home, but seeing as how I'd paid 98% of their purchase price (the other 2% was graciously picked up by my dental insurance) she could hardly protest. The off-kilter composition (of the negative, not my teeth) had caught my eye as it hung clipped against the green-tinted plexi of the light box. It seemed the perfect image to kick off a series of smaller drawings on some cheesecloth wrapped plywood panels I'd freighted around since art school.
That was a year ago.
In the interim my graphite teeth have sat atop a shelf in the studio whilst I produced much larger works for gallery walls. For whatever reasons, the diminutive 6" square format lost its appeal before I got beyond that first prototype. Tomorrow I'll go to the studio with four other small photographs and begin anew. The subject matter is comprised of a few things from daily life: baubles, wind in the marsh, a bleeding tree, and hazy self reflections.
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