Yellow Hue
Sometime on November 18, 2011
Muse
Worms
Sometime on October 22, 2011
Muse
Sometimes it takes a while for you to realise they’re there. Longer to accept you’ve been living with them for some time. Maybe it’s ok… they don’t eat much. I guess it could be a feasible rationalisation for the nagging appetite that parries satiation.
Still flipping celestial yellow-pages for a submersible apothecary to fathom the depths. I doubt the position will be advertised though – word-of-mouth turned back at the gates. An internal recruitment for remedial revelation. Revive. Huh? Re-vive? Indeed. Flip that thirteen face-up so I can stretch my legs again.
Pecking order
Sometime on October 22, 2011
Muse
Horizons
Sometime on September 30, 2011
Muse
Thorns
Sometime on September 23, 2011
Muse
Poor Ben Gunn
Sometime on May 4, 2011
Muse
Acrylic on canvas
203 x 254mm
Purple couch
Sometime on April 12, 2011
Muse
100mm x 100mm
Acrylic
…somewhere at the Musee de Chagall
Sometime on March 22, 2011
Muse
How much of a thing, or even perhaps the shape or colour, need be used to deliver understanding? Hints of line, shape; beginnings and transitions to other beginnings or voids, an almost presence, opaquely tacit – unto some detached conglomerate of segments, fractious finale.
The meal of composition replete with deliciously ambiguous ingredients. Vague motions propelling one down la rue du apprehension?
Tools (of the trade?)
Sometime on January 13, 2011
Muse
“More to life…” such was spat from the teeth of of the “gifted and talented” only some stunted years past,
Still to date I’ve attempted reasoning with such a quip (was such for jest? …surely not more than so?)
Rasping viscerally through countless layers does such a disdainfully flung phrase weather,
Surely such had been flung haphazardly, with vague carelessness, was …in jest?
I waver unconvinced, muted, and some three and a half years hence, afloat…
I have slid afore the fleshy palms of countless artisans of the craft for whom,
Such a vocation has filled the minds, the plates, the hearts of scores and scores…
Such crafts have shod many a foot and arched aching hearts for which,
Nought has held true for a year or two, or more, a life or more…
“More to life…” …said she.
For my thin flesh.. she is not to blame; nor should, nor will, she be named.
Zealots of insight may the fervent be for and unto their own,
I for one may have professed my adhesions to more or less those in-firm
..
Threads stretch out now…
More is yet to come in the form of that, to those few…
who may fidget & twist to a scent askew,
which could tickle loose the visceral wattles of the birds
who would but smile prior to acknowledgment.
Apologies for the delay; although, those who would require such, and read thus far…
…more delusion; I fathom that it is simply some peak a la pique… piquant; avast!
Fresh ink
Sometime on June 17, 2010
Muse
