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The Painted Face of a Clown Seems Like Too an Easy a Metaphor to Make

by Marisa Crane

Memories move in a peculiar way. Conflating the past, present and future, each colour, material and form is laced with symbolic significance. They work to make tangible emotions, thoughts and traumas, so they can be detached from the body, but also manipulated by it.

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Felt, thread, rice, wooden forks, cardboard, pom poms, double-sided tape, super glue, toilet paper, PVA glue, joint compound, flour, acrylic paint, newspaper, tulle, balloons 

clown marisa crane

I don’t believe in coincidences. I think everything is aligned. Not quite like the stacking of a domino trail, but like the open weave of torn gauze. 

Thread suspended together, interlocking at intervals along the warp and weft, open to the breezes which waft through the fibres,

catching it adrift.  

The frayed edges, the tenuousity

When two memories collide they were destined to meet. 

One form becoming another

feeding

intertwining

breeding

clown marisa crane

clown marisa crane

The imagery flows and become a synonym for one and other. 

An object from decade ago is baptised in new meaning

on the turn of a moment

a last breath

The silenced hands which never beat together

The performer who never heard it

A door no longer opened. 

All movement ceased.

And I,

a pilgrim to it all.  

clown marisa crane

Marisa Crane / @marisacraneartist