Poem fragment (from my book, still a manuscript with an excellent publisher currently considering it):
Do we fall into what dissembles us?
A whirlpool, its swirling torpor,
naked against the onrush.
Is it that we are always approaching what we can never give ourselves to?
2nd wash, 24" x 30", oils on stretched canvas (nighttime shot, not so good for whiteness or colour)
untitled, 1st wash, 24" x 30", oil on stretched canvas (taken in shade of sun, better colour)
The photos are not very good. The canvas where there isn't paint is white. But these are simply a tracking.
Beginning this piece was a challenge. The kitten was sleeping. I chanced putting a canvas down and doing a quick paint sketch. Then the dog walked right on it! Impossible!
I know what I'd like to do, and do hope it works out.