Mother Tongue 2019

Joshua Flint made Mother Tongue using paint, but the exact date is unknown. Look at the wash of blues and greens, see how they blend like a memory fading at the edges? Flint's handling of paint here is fascinating; it's like he's excavating a scene rather than building one. The figures are almost ghosts, present yet dissolving into the landscape. Focus on the cluster of bubbles hovering above; they seem to float on the border between reality and dream, obscuring the narrative. The paint is applied thinly, almost transparently in places, allowing the layers to peek through. This contributes to the emotional weight of the artwork, like half-remembered stories or secrets whispered in the dark. The way Flint layers color reminds me of Gerhard Richter's blurred photographs, where the image just barely resists disappearing. Both artists remind us that art is always a conversation with the past, an echo of something already seen or felt. Ultimately, this painting embraces ambiguity, allowing us to bring our own stories to the surface.