The Banana Fan

I had a canvas ready.  I had already painted it black with a white field with no inkling to what was going to happen next.  I hung it on my studio wall and let it stare at me.  Channeling my inner Paul Klee, I waited for it to tell me what it needed.  Then, after several months, it told me.  Bananas, it said.  Obedient to my muse on that sunny, spring morning I went straight to the grocery store, bought a pile of loose bananas, brought them back to the studio and arranged them and rearranged them until I liked what I saw.  Why the fan shape?  Does it mean anything?  No. I just liked it.  And what did I do when I finished painting?  I ate bananas. oldwork-173_edited

This painting now happily resides in a private collection, but prints are available.

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