Epistolary Still Life. Nostalgic? Maybe. Who writes proper letters these days? Would I write one? Meh…
Painting space and light – that’s a dimension. Painting a story – that’s a dimension. Painting so that the process of painting is discernible – that’s yet another dimension, the dimension of time. I want it all and now. I am a different entity from moment to moment. How do I maintain continuity without scattering in space and time like a handful of fairy dust? How do I paint a handful of fairy dust as it’s scattered in space?
A handful of fairy dust…
