AMY WRIGHT

March 3 - 31, 2017 AMY WRIGHT‘s paintings and drawings (and the marks within them) are small to engage the viewer in an intimate link, like a secret is being divulged. Upon closer inspection, methods of fragmentation become visible. It’s the language she uses to communicate and it’s a personal custom of coping. Wright’s recent body of work began as an exploration of the lush patterns and colors found in food objects. As the project progressed, the tone of the work began to change. Food prompts a slew of emotions. There is too little, or too much. It can induce pleasure or disgust. It can simultaneously bind a community, and serve as a social divide. It’s a link to ancient humans. It’s been employed as a symbolic device throughout history. It’s a life, ending to advance another life. This body of work is populated with monuments to this collective consciousness. There are many altars and many sacrifices. Most of the scenes depicted in her work have indications that productive, maybe intelligent, beings have intervened. Sometimes, the evidence is explicit. Occasionally, it is a subtly placed clue. The beings are absent. Whether they have just stepped out, or whether they have been gone for some time is unknown. There’s something golden about a moment that exists outside the passage of time. There’s a delightful eeriness to a space not quite terrestrial. If such a crystalline state can be depicted visually, Wright hopes to find it.