Dreaming, Monsieur. All the muscles enclosing the head, redly, dark eyes staring out. It reminds me of wounded and healing. Then I saw your face like a carnivàle mask of clouds floating, and emptiness, the void itself, where your eyes and open mouth.
A burqua of white around my head, the snowy landscape. The purity of the whole unbroken light, its whiteness.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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Some photos and little vids from Thanksgiving up north
Hope you had an enjoyable Thanksgiving! With beautiful, warm weather this year, had a wonderful day with family up north. And, yay! - I also...
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Basquiat at the AGO: An Untitled Portrait When asked about his frequent use of "carbon" (tar, asbestos), Basquiat shot back, ... -
direct link: The Dancer's Backskin An accidental drawing - in a new Moleskine notebook, I brushed water over watercolour pencil. The ...
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Pablo Valdivia, Breathing Underwater translated from the Spanish by Ross Woods Guernica Editions, Fall 2014 102 pages Trade Paperback...
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