The typical still life painting doesn't usually strike anything within me.
I respect the skill it takes to produce such a lucid image by hand yet its mundane realism keeps me wanting more.
A maximalist by heart, I admire layers and complexity and heavily processed expressions. Except for when we're talking about food.
Maybe that explains how I got sucked into a portal by a couple Francisco Oller portraits.
The tangled simplicity of abundant clusters and atmospheric horizon of neutral hues brought me to 1893. A minute glimpse into what the island was like back then. I can only dream of what is happening beyond the edges of this snapshot. The uncomplicated vision of these luscious subjects makes me think of a time before the land was exploited for its resources. When the mother created shamelessly to feed her children. I also relish in knowing that these are the foods that nourished my ancestors and thus, are an integral part of my DNA.
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