I have always been fascinated by kudzu.
When I was smaller than I am now, my grandfather took me to see a school bus that had somehow wound up at the bottom of a deep gulley next to my aunts house. Being as little as I was, I wasn’t quite accustomed to seeing a bright yellow school bus wheels up off the road. School buses were supposed to drive around, squealing to a stop, exhaling from the air brakes like dragons. This one wouldn’t be doing any of that any time soon.
I remember periodically checking in on the bus on my bi-weekly visits to my grandparents. Every time I saw less and less of the bus and more and more of the mass of green kudzu leaves that was consuming it bit by bit.
Now, when I am driving, it is all I see. Burying the old cars and fence posts left to rot. Smothering trees and bushes and grass. Filling the air with a sweet, musky perfume from its purple blossoms. It is both beautiful and unnerving. I know I shouldn’t love it, but I do.
For this painting, I have used entirely too much green to create a scene that is both familiar and otherworldly at the same time. The viewer may feel any number of emotions such as but not limited to; dread, curiosity, lethargy, peace, confusion, nostalgia (both painful and comforting), contentment, or a strong urge to bury oneself feet first in a field and wait until it consumes you too.
