Lightningseed 

Curator: Here we have Troy Brooks' painting, "Lightningseed." Isn't she something? I find her utterly mesmerizing, though I can't quite put my finger on why. It's that gown, maybe, like captured sky, and those little floral flourishes – like someone decided to accessorize a Byzantine icon! Editor: Oh, she is compelling. Immediately, I'm struck by this sense of arrested sorrow. The downcast eyes, the stark lighting... it speaks volumes. And the halo... not exactly a traditional golden ring, is it? More like stray electrical currents, contained rebellion. Curator: That’s it exactly, rebellion! Brooks really captures something intangible about these women. It’s like they’re princesses of their own little empires, complete with internal monologues only we get a glimpse of. And this is acrylic paint – which sort of surprises me – it’s easy to miss it. I tend to get utterly lost in that theatrical blue... like an operatic dream, almost. Editor: Theatre is precisely the word. Note the ruff, that almost Elizabethan collar, confining yet dramatic. And those stockings! The delicate filigree pattern against the electric blue of the dress suggests a story – a power struggle, perhaps, between opulence and restriction, innocence and knowing. Curator: And Brooks' figures! Their faces always have this unique quality: they feel both retro and impossibly futuristic. It's like a pin-up girl from the 50s got lost in time and space and ended up here, on our gallery wall. Her style has been called everything from pop surrealism to modernism. The truth is, the sum ends up greater than its parts. It all feels... I don’t know, sacred and profane somehow! Editor: Absolutely. Look closely, and you realize everything points inward, down, toward her inner world. Even the glowing, ethereal quality seems focused and internal. And I can’t help but think of the seed metaphor. Lightning, the volatile power of nature, contained within something small, something pregnant with potential...a symbol that really says something, when you come to think about it. Curator: "Lightningseed," you've got to wonder if he chose the name before or after finishing this arresting artwork... Editor: Who can really say? But I know it resonates, long after one turns away.