Erin Kendig lives and plays in Seattle. She studied books in college and likes words and pictures almost equally. Once she was a human filing cabinet, an occupation so intensely boring that it made her break out in unattractive stress rashes. Now she's making pictures that make her happy (and hopefully others as well) and going to school for graphic design. She likes to read poetry--in fact, she would write poetry if she could, but the whole experience is really rather horrifying, so she's sticking to drawing instead.
Well, you know, I think life is mildly terrifying, sometimes tragic, often lovely and ultimately mind-boggling. I'm interested in connections between people and people and people and things and things and things. Also, of course, metaphors. Mostly, art-ing helps me remember to look around, and when I'm looking around, I start to feel this odd compassion for everything around me�like even my refrigerator�and I start to think "My, life is grand!" and I hope that maybe some of my art can inspire shadows of these feelings in others.
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July 2009
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Cut up words, acrylic, watercolor, ink on paper
30" x 17"
$650.00
not available
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Watercolor, acrylic, ink on paper
12" x 24"
$300.00
not available
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November 2008
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October 2008
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So, about construction equipment: excavators, cranes, etc. They're so intrinsically organic in form—excavators are these nasty reptilian monsters, cranes are huge, precarious insects with sharp, towering exoskeletons. I love these metaphors because I think they explore the truth about an evolving city: the urban landscape is constantly and violently changing in a brutal and animalistic way. Man-made environments reflect natural environments in that they both contain everyday dramas of birth and destruction. And I think it's all quite interesting if you pay attention.
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