A drawing exercise that I've remembered for years consisted of choosing a palette of two colors that you would normally always avoid in the pastels box, and then making a composition of that day's still life. A large part of foundational visual studies is learning effectively to distrust what you think you hate, as well as what you think you love. I found that in being forced into the problem of using colors that I disliked, I made different kinds of decisions than I normally would, and that I was less attached to the outcome. And then surprised that I enjoyed the final result more than many other daily exercises when I was not color-restricted.

While Montreal-based Nik Mirus might not hate the color pink, he's certainly made an interesting decision in allowing the color to become a sort of character or entity in his recent series Subconscious Pink. Taking inspiration from surreal influences and impressions, his images revel in vaguely unsettling, meta-archetypal associations: an elevator pad that appears to be dripping (or weeping?) pink puddles in its edges; a layer of grassy earth peeled back to reveal a too-merry pink descent into something else; a dark room filled with a desk where a pink portfolio binder is prominently and assiduously placed.

Underneath, from the series Subconscious Pink by Nik Mirus

Untitled, from the series Subconscious Pink by Nik Mirus

In his artist's statement, Mirus explains that:

Very rarely do I find myself with a camera, hunting, searching and capturing the events and things around me. Rather, I prefer to use the camera as a tool with which to build a moment, create a narrative or evoke a feeling...The results of such an approach are photographs that often share an atmosphere with cinema and blur the line between fiction and reality. In the series, Subconscious Pink, ambiguous pink elements within the frame are used as means to represent the internal forces that drive and motivate our behavior. Our fears, desires and ambitions are an integral part of who we are. Lurking with in us, just beneath the surface, they're always present. This series has been a way for me to try and understand some of these ideas, who I am and what motivates me.

A trend has been developing for the past several years in editorial and fashion photography of creating images that seem like the viewer has just walked in on a moment in someone else's life, and/or is getting a privileged, fly-on-the-wall experience into something that they should not otherwise be privy to: an attractive couple in the midst of an argument on a couch might serve as an advertisement for designer jeans; a quick, one-frame still of a woman leaving her abode distraught and in a hurry might be the mental fodder for a haughty and distraught new fragrance on the market. Narratives with only a middle, where you are left to fill in the beginning and end are a compelling way to give viewers a moment, or to sell them something. Similar strands of this thinking has been in the artistic arsenal of fine art photographers for decades (think Cindy Sherman, Gregory Crewdson). Where Subconscious Pink succeeds the most is in the middle moments where Mirus concocts a scenario of a place both of our imagining and one we think we've seen before: in a dream, a Salvador Dalí painting, or a David Lynch film. Very rarely is there someone in the frame, and if there is, there is still room enough to insert ourselves into the space of the narrative.

Untitled, from the series Subconscious Pink by Nik Mirus

This body of work is a relatively new one for Mirus. Begun last fall, he introduced it on his blog by saying:

When ever I try to explain these pictures/ideas to inquisitive minds I always find myself sounding kind of vague, hazy and stoned. "Yeah man...I'm really into like...hot pink...these pictures with pink elements...odd, out of place pink. You know..."

It's really allowed me to veer off into a variety of different directions and do things that I don't normally do.

I'll be interested to see where his subconscious takes a picture next.

The entire series Subconscious Pink, as well as several other bodies of work, can be seen on Nik Mirus' website. Mirus also maintains a blog.