Confessions Of The Still Life

For as long as I can remember I’ve worked in stilled pictures, inside the boundaries of an imagination, counting mathematical intervals of space that once gave me meaning to these unfinished thoughts.

With a widening horizon of possibilities comes the ever expanding room for doubt that builds on the accommodation I have with failure. It is that sense of failure which draws me back towards the still life.

Its a circle thing I suppose.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s