“Fruits on Pink” by Bink
She begins. First, there is pink. Well…vivid electric magenta is more apt. She pushes the frayed brush into the water jar, hitting the bottom too hard. Taps out a neurodivergent rhythm on the canvas. Some would call it background. To her, I think, it is the main thing, the focus, the point of everything. In her world, fuchsia rules.
Afterwards, which comes quickly, she drops the battered brush into the cup of waiting water. She was never one to let a thing settle or dry before moving on. Not missing a beat, she calls up yellow onto a different brush, just as bruised. It’s banana time, and it forms itself swiftly. Brush plops into water. Next, an orange. Lime, apple, bunches of concord grapes and—could that be a kiwi?
It’s a riot of fruit, I tell you. Fruit lounging on a vivid rose background. Select pieces of something like grapefruit perched in the lower left corner, waiting to march across the path that grapes made on their way out of her head and onto the cotton duck canvas. The banana is in Savasana—deep reflective relaxation after too many days of curve. Fruit dancing, marching, doing Yoga. Fruit sitting squarely looking straight into the eye of things. And always, the pink like backlighting, like sunrise and set in one, glowing up behind all this produce.
If there is a God of fruit, her art today is a bible.
done, out comes the black. Different brush, always dark and bold. It used to be right in the middle of her paintings, obscuring a chunk of the image. Large, and right over the featured shapes. She’s growing away from that, learning to let her work take center stage. She pushes down hard as she makes her inimitable mark. On the pink, claiming ownership, her initials: EDK.
–Melinda Coppola