I have only just today stumbled upon Alexa Meade’s work, a sort of three-dimensional tromp l’oeil project. Much to my annoyance, S has been aware of her work for a considerably longer period of time, having seen it linked off Reddit ages ago. Bastard! It is, I think, his spousal duty to pass on interesting things that he finds on the internets, and for the most part, he does.
Anyhoo. Just the other day, we were talking about tromp l’oeil, or at least, I was trying to, but he didn’t know what I meant. And now I can’t remember why I even wanted to talk about it. (This entry is going nowhere fast. I’d best wrap it up.)
Because I have had a sort of weird day, a day in which (to keep the French thing going) my workplace raison d’etre was called into question (please excuse the melodrama), I am going to indulge myself. Yes. Yes I am. Above I wrote the description “three dimensional tromp l’oeil” without having read the artist’s own description of her work. And what do you know? That’s pretty much what she says, too. Go me. Way to spot the tromp l’oeil. Woot.
A final note, from her about page, “Essentially, her art imitates life on top of life.”