I’m posting a small painting that began as a red landscape, was scrubbed back, then the black bird flew in. Was thinking about flying away to experience another culture and bringing back trinkets, reminders .. so added the tiny chinese figure. Then wrote this small poem which I’ll be brave and share. I’m thinking of making an artist book of poems and pictures
‘I don’t know’ said the crow
The dirt is as fine as powder slipping over the hairs and into the crevices of the old skin of the world … but red deep red in the afternoon and under the hard hit of the sun at midday bright orange
drifting finding solace on the wind above the plough
And when the rain comes it clumps
like clag glue coagulating slippery Sam run to the dam don’t fall in or you’ll lose your skin
and end on the wind above the plough
With the crows dive bombing right through you.