Saturday, April 26, 2008
Girl with the White Earbud.
©2008.StephanieEveGeorgopoulos
My rendition of girl with the pearl earing.
Self Portrait. Acrylic on gessoboard. 9x12in.
When I think about bugs....
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Handcuffed to Houdini.
©2008.StephanieEveGeorgopoulos
The "Kings & Queens" Thesis show went up in the Visual Arts Gallery in Chelsea in NYC. Pretty amazing.
My body of work. 22-Tarot cards based on the life & world of Harry Houdini. The cards are those of the Major Arcaena, numbered 0-21. They are a journey- e a way to eximane the inner psyche & psychological evolution one must undergo to become balanced. The symbolic nature follows that of the traditional tarot cards, however I used my artistic liscense to alter the imagery in such a way to be more representational to Houdini.
They are painted on 7x9.5in massonite, cut & rounded to shape, then covered in canvas.. The .25in thick edges along with the letters are goldleafed.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Cotton Candy Eyes.
©2008.StephanieEveGeorgopoulos
We were walking through the streets of Athens when my Yiayia & I saw a cotton candy stand. Being that we were in Greece, Greek letters adorned the sides of the cart. My Yiayia laughed & repeated the words in Greek...then told me, "You know, that means it's the hair of an old woman." The image has never really gone away, so it got a fun little twist for this assignment....One of my favorites from this year.
Acrylic on massonite.
E. A. Poe
A broken sparkling trance
©2008.StephanieEveGeorgopoulos
or so it seems I have been in this state lately.
Life is incredible. Life is scary.
All that glitters is not gold- but it will still blind you with its gleam.
In two weeks school is through.
Then I am a senior.
Then I graduate.
I am ready to be done with school.
I've decided it was time to start an art blog. I have yet to get a website up & running, & so this will be
my escape..
Your connection..
Peruse.
Enjoy.
Comment.
Critique.
Love.
Hate (kindly).
Be honest.
I have developed a tough skin in New York.
Consistancy is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
Oscar Wilde.
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