Eyes, Ears, Hearts Open.

In my paintings I explore the invisible, gently cracking open visible surfaces without destroying them – at times in humurous, and at times in ironic ways. Through shape and colour, I bring to life desires, dreams, everyday anxieties, needs, emotions, and human strengths and weaknesses. During this process, the “self” and also the “foreign self” develop into the central focus of my work.

I feel an inner necessity to seek out symbols of life – movements and interactions – maturation and growth. In doing so, I open peoples’ eyes, ears and hearts and convey my vision to the world - that we humans would like to interact more sincerely with one another and have the courage to show feelings or to break rank.

Life is interaction. We humans need to look out for one another, respect our uniqueness, treat each other sensitively, and listen: with open eyes, open ears, open hearts. Only in this way can we achieve open interaction.

Life is movement. Everything is flowing. The moving object flows and grows from my characters. It searches for its path, in order to exert influence, to move something, to enter into fruitful dialogue, to powerfully seep into others’ lives.

Life is growth and maturation. I symbolise the process of change for the “self” and also the “foreign self” through twines, flowers, trees or natural structures, such as tree bark and water ripples. I would like to pass on this interpretation of change and keep peoples’ eyes, ears and hearts open.

Bettina Mundry *1959

Bettina Mundry’s paintings drift in fantasy like a tugboat out at sea.

Each image always contains a story, which is told without deliberate intent and without citing vicarious symbols.

Her motives require their own time to grow, to first fill her head before being “painted out” with acrylic, pastel crayons and tusche ink.

We become witness to the freeing of emotions and sometimes, we even witness these emotions literally springing from the mind.

Bettina’s paintings mirror moods from harmony to aggression, from irony to idealism and thus we trust in fantasty.

cataloguetext from Carola Baum poet