While working and living alone in Munich around 1992, I did this self-portrait. I was inspired by the abundance of statuary around the city and just invented this bust of Mercury for this illustration. The only reason, I believed at the time, would be that his hat provided shelter.
Nearly 20 years later, in 2000, my daughter Audrey was born. It was a completely new, frightening, and soul-defining event. I wouldn't have described it that way then. Then I didn't know what to say. Never having a dad in my life, I didn't have many fatherly lessons to go on. So, to ease my mind I mentally took her to sit where I had once found comfort and a small sense of security and painted this.
Now, its another 20 years later and nothing seems nailed down....not even the truth. So one night, not knowing what to paint, I go back to have a seat with Mercury and the place in my mind has filled out.
When I chose him nearly 40 years ago, I didn't want a statue adorned with a story. I didn't want him in armour being valient in battle. I wanted a massive statue at peace. Communicating only peace. My Mercury would be content to provide shelter and look good doing it. While I revel in the joy of the past, the pain and struggle appears to have added depth and a little maturity to my art and hopefully me along with it.
With personal art, I don't think the ideas through. They appear out of nowhere. If I try to think about them, the idea deconstructs and becomes useless and not fit for materials. I find if I let them be and use them as they appear, they work. Wherever they come from has to be a good place. I'm glad I'm connected to it.