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Our culture screens out many experiences, both
good and bad ones, by means of our social structure and the media. We
ourselves screen out many of our own perceptions usually as a matter of
comfort. We simply are not strong enough to do everything and know
everything. The strongest events and ideas push through
our screens demanding to be acknowledged. They present them selves to us
first as random dots of knowledge. Then they begin to line up and make
sense, then evolve into pure abstractions. Finally they become part of
our personal framework. Derusha is an artist who has set out to get
behind the filters and seek an elemental experience. Before moving to
Santa Fe, she painted in Australia for fourteen years, including eight
years In the desert. During one outing, she was approached by an
aborigine who carried a digging stick and introduced himself as artist
Johnny Warangkula. He encouraged her to paint with him, and through him
she met other artist’s and learned much about their culture. ‘These artist’s taught me a lot about life
and spirit,’ she says. ‘I believe at this time my inspiration and
life changed dramatically.’ The connection led to a series of
figurative and abstract paintings that were shown in various Australian
and American venues. It was in Australian in 1997 that Derusha started
using synthetic polymer ( also know as Bubblewrap) as an over dotting
method. Some of her paintings were packaged in the wrap and she noticed
the transparency of dots laid over dots. It reminded her of Johnny
Warangkula who achieved atmospheric effects using layers of dots in
different sizes shapes,
colors, and directions, all adding to the movement and space of his
composition. Derusha began
using wrap as an actual medium, painting on both the front and the back
and also painting it onto Belgium linen canvas. Sometimes the dots
appear as negative spaces, suggesting a mesh screen. Often they are
raised, conjuring up not only aboriginal dreamtime paintings but the
Ben-day dots of pop-art or the pixels of early photo-reproduction. These
passages contrast with painterly areas that reveal what she calls ‘the
movement of the human natural hand against the repetitive machine-made
dots.’ Sometimes she glues wrap to the canvas. ‘These surfaces are fragile to the human touch,’ she says, ‘but they last a long time because the wrap is pure plastic and not the disintegrating type made from corn. In this way, they’re like whole cultures. If we go into them without great care, our impact can destroy them.’ Derusha’s ideas migrate across the vastness of her canvases. They drift into irregular paterns like the rise and fall of current topics. They reveal more than they conceal. Their surfaces are, she sais, ‘like my own skin, weathered and alive.’
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