I don’t ordinarily add words to pictures, it seems …unnecessary and often removes something from the work, but today I’m making an exception.
Words don’t always come naturally to me (spoken or written) they seldom tumble forth with any coherence or direction, just vague intention and purpose….sometimes they work, mostly they just fall. The more weight they carry the softer they should land perhaps, I have to tread carefully always for fear of crushing something so delicate, so considered…I wonder if we take enough time to feel the weight of the things we say.
This piece is dedicated to my wife, a muse in the truest sense of the word without her there’s just a void.
I don’t want to replicate, illustrate, imitate or even communicate…..but protest!
Expel my head my heart and the very pit of my being upon the canvas the anger and the sorrow the love and the relief that comes forth with every fucking expulsion of air from my lungs. To be left alone and never alone to live and to die and to know that there’s nothing more or less, before or after. To see and feel line and form and light and dark, to see the void …..to feel insignificant…..to find solace in the silence of mark.