George Isaac Davis

In the Deep South, everything is extreme—extreme heat, extreme views, extreme light and extreme color. My work is still informed by childhood memories that were nourished deep in the Appalachian foothills of Pine Mountain, GA. Plato said that the beginning of knowledge is to wonder at things, and it was there that my brother and I ran free - unabashed and rambunctious - through that bountiful woodland realm of boundless wonder, exploding in vibrant colors. There was nothing like discovering the laws of nature kicking over rocks, sliding down hills, and sticking sticks in the goo of God’s creation. Azaleas erupting in electric magentas and luminous pinks, cascading down hills carpeted by succulent ocher and orange leaves; little, unnamed creeks trickled in between rocks dressed in velvety patches of vibrant green moss. These colors are forever burned in my visual vocabulary. Potency of place is what defines these paintings, as I reflect on these memories of distant moments. The lines between fact and fiction, reality and myth get skewed in the South by the blurring affects of veiled innuendo and mind-numbing. These paintings tell a similar story of times remembered, savory memories short lived but not forgotten and the nostalgia for the stories from the South-land of my youth.