Want to know why I painted this pickle? I did it because it was weird. I thought, “HOW awesome – HOW decisively unclassy – would it be to have a giant pickle hanging in a luxurious dining space?”
I ran to the store and bought several jars of my favourite pickles, and did a pickle photoshoot on my windowsill (totally normal behavior) so that the pickle would capture the light JUST perfectly. I had to brush a rebrush the pickle with brine so that it continued looking fresh and photo-ready. Because, you know, no one wants to look at an unphotogenic pickle. Clearly, I take my job extremely seriously.
The painting process was FUN. I felt lost in what could only be described as a galaxy of shadows, bumps and reflections. The reception was equally FUN. The pickle made people laugh, gasp, and marvel. It poked fun at “high art.” Most importantly, it was what it was: a GIANT pickle in the middle of an art show. It interrupted the status quo.
On a personal level, the pickle reminds me of family At family dinners, my parents used to put out a plate of pickles, which would always disappear before the meal began. My grandmother called us “picklemonsters.”
Nostalgia, weirdness, paintability, and potential for awesomeness. These, combined with the belief that I could paint anything and get away with it, produced the perfect impetus for the perfect pickle.
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