Gloves protect, provide warmth, seduce. 

Wear but one, slap on sequins and the world remembers you forever.

Movies set in the late 1800 and early 1900's provide a visual feast of capricious fabrics, colours, finespun lace, pearls, and hats adorned with feathers and flowers that reach for the gods. Fire resides in the layered hills and valleys of contrasting textures.  Gloves feed the flames.

Cover a hand and it becomes a character. Place puppets on each finger to grow a neighbourhood.

A scarlet glove proclaims refinement, diplomacy,  temptation.  

Body language with emphasis!

My cousin Thérèse, an outstanding seamstress, created a rather unusual dress for my first high school prom. Dark blue with long split panels, it revealed a soft pink underskirt as I sashayed about.

I see myself at 15. A pair of elbow-length matching navy gloves lies neatly folded on my bed. I pick one up and "oh so slowly" pull it over my right arm to contrive a portrait of adolescent elegance. 

Ahhhh, to recapture a memory cloaked in the narrow passage of youth to adulthood.  Is it any wonder that a penchant for gloves has crept into my work over the years?

Examples from long ago:

Black Gloves
Rainy Night in Georgia
White Glove

Bull Mask Dance
(Warped in Gimp)