Clare Coyle Taylor — “Sketchbook”

Have you ever looked at someone’s art­work as casu­ally as they showed it to you?  “Oh, here’s a few sketches that I’ve been doing, just some col­ored pen­cil stuff… no big deal.”

But then you look, already think­ing about the next part of the con­ver­sa­tion, or why that chili you had for lunch is still both­er­ing you — and BANG! the work so casu­ally tossed your way pulls your eyes open wider than you thought they could stretch!

Clare Coyle Tay­lor did that to me last week.  Casu­ally toss­ing me a dog-eared spi­ral of colored-pencil sketches on bris­tol board the way you might toss some­one a paper-towel after a spill.  The work is depth with­out effort, emo­tion with­out melodrama.

I am only begin­ning to look more closely at her work, she has a his­tory, has had exhibits — but life got in the way some years ago; the big can­vasses that scat­ter her home qui­etly wait for her return.  For now, she crushes color pen­cil into bris­tol board and gives us a small glimpse of what I hope still lies ahead.