Painting > New Work-- 2019-2020

Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, self portrait
oil on canvas
28 x 21 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, doors, best place to cry is in the shower
oil on canvas
both 24 x 12 inches
2020
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, two shadows, two curators, Shadows on a Shunsuke Imai Painting
oil on canvas
14 x 18 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, man holding the door
oil on canvas
17 x 14.5 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, Gray Lady
oil on canvas
18 x 22 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, open door Berlin
oil on canvas
16 x 9.5 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, hypnic jerk, sleep start, startled awake
oil on canvas
16 x 22 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, rainy flight
oil on canvas
14 x 17 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, bride
oil on canvas
31 x 24 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, Two Women, sunlight
oil on canvas
16 x 14 inches
2019
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Gwen Zabicki, painter, artist, Chicago, paintings, book in sunlight, Jane Hirshfield poem, In A Room With Many Windows
oil on canvas
20 x 20 inches
2019

After becoming a mother, my relationship to time changed and warped. I am awake more hours than I used to be and am busier than before. Yet, there is also a lot of downtime in my day when I am feeding or holding my sleepy daughter. It is during these times that I am alone with my thoughts. Those brief, flickering thoughts that come and go so quickly between so many other things have become the subject of my new work. Sam Anderson wrote, “How many fleeting associations combine to make up a life? How many rusty pipes do we mistake for owls? A vast majority of our waking hours are filled not with witty jokes or brilliant thoughts or epic feelings but with tiny, private mind-motions — thoughts that are hardly even thoughts at all, that don’t rise to the level of sharing with another human being. That millisecond when — again and again — a rusty pipe looks like an owl, or a newscaster’s voice reminds you of a long-gone uncle, or a daily routine sets off a small chain of involuntary associations. These things are almost nothing, and yet they are who we are.” These uncatchable, ghostly thoughts are almost impossible to notice and then adequately describe-- a kind man who held the door for me and my bulky stroller; the perfect shadows of two curators on a wall; a rainy flight home; that gray lady on a smoke break, seen over a decade ago, blending in with three gray columns; startling myself awake from a nap because I thought I was falling. The act of painting these fleeting thoughts is an attempt to capture a nearly invisible but very large part of being alive.