Art Exhibits

Artists’ Statements

Polly Parke has been a painter all her life, but she has also really been enjoying collage in recent years.
She feels simplicity may be at the foundation of drawing and painting, but in collage, the overall
simplicity is where the beauty dwells. Sometimes a painting inspires a collage, and other times a collage
may inform a painting. An old photograph can spark either. Whether she is drawing, painting, or
creating a collage, she loves the interplay of her own artistic intuition and what she has been taught. 

Contact Info: Instagram, @PollyParkeArt

Gretchen Warsen
Born: 1974, Bangor, Maine
Web: toddyponddesigns.squarespace.com Instagram: @toddyponddesigns
Bio:
I grew up in an old farm house at the end of a dirt road in Swanville, Maine—a mostly-untouched, rural
environment perfect for observing and exploring. I was so fortunate and blessed that there was no lack
of creativity in my extended family and all forms of artistic expression were encouraged and supported.
My parents (as true back-to-the-landers) even transformed an old chicken barn on our property into an
alternative-education school where I don’t really remember doing anything other than sledding, making
paper valentines, listening to my teacher read out loud, and climbing trees with my friends. As a
teenager, I worked hard to be a “normal public school kid” but the happy little weirdo side of me was
persistent, and after a year as a music major at Bates College, my piano teacher suggested perhaps I
would be happier in the visual art program. I began painting abstractly during a semester abroad at Tyler
School of Art in Rome and was hooked. Years later, I left a graphic design job to funnel most of my
creative energy into being a full-time mom to two wonderful girls (they are in college now!). When they
started school, I began painting professionally and now I work in my messy-but-active art studio in the
back room of our house in Westford, Massachusetts.

Statement
“How long does it take you to make a painting?”
I get this question a lot, and the truth is I really have no idea… I think that’s a good thing. 
When I’m in the “flow state” in my studio, I lose track of time and, at best, even myself. In just one
painting, there are many previous paintings—worlds covered by new worlds. The good parts get saved
and the better parts—the precious bits that I fall in love with easily but are notoriously distracting—they
get ruthlessly covered over for the benefit of the whole. I work best on a large scale so that there is
enough room for all the things—repeated marks, opaque patches of acrylic color bumping up against
translucent fields, drawn lines, scrapes, smudges, and smears. I love to draw and have found that pulling
colors, shapes, and compositional ideas from real-life sources (interior design magazines, children’s book
illustrations, and always—flowers) keeps the painting fresh and bold and can bring an element of unease
or a strangely-recognizable weirdness to the piece.
When a piece is finished (however long that takes), I love the process of coming up with a title almost as
much as I love painting it. I will stand back, say a prayer, and think about what was going on in my head
while I was making the piece—maybe what’s been bothering me or maybe the palette will stir up a
memory of an object or room. I choose a title that connects those thoughts with a relatable feeling or
moment—the more specific, the better. I also often ask my girls for help with titles or critiques because
they are not afraid to be honest. In the end, the titles are a gentle invitation to take a closer look for that
zing of understanding and the “Oh yeah, I see it!” moment.