“He frees the noose and


the wretched woman down, then — O

hideous sequel! — rips from off her dress

the golden brooches she was wearing,


them up, and rams them home right

through his eyes.”

   The Oedipus Plays of Sophocles: Oedipus the King,                 Sophocles 429 BC

Artist Statement

Kind of a play.  Kind of a poem.  Kind of a little bit of everything.  Fun and sad to read again.  The riddle of the Sphinx, the riddle of fate.  Why would you try to change anything if it is already destined by fate?  I mean, look at what happened to Oedipus.  Had to try and paint that.  Jocasta finds out the truth and kills herself.  Oedipus, finding out the truth and finding his mother/ wife dead, rips the brooches from off her dress and blinds himself.  Trying to blind himself to the fates.  Blind himself to the dual roles he’s playing – son to mother and husband to mother.  Attempting to ease his conscience by taking away his sight.  A little drastic perhaps, but Freud wasn’t around yet to use his own story to treat him. July 2014


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