Visiting my brother in Ingagane, South Africa recently I found this piece I had made sometime in the early 90’s. It returned me to the emotions I felt then. It also made me realise why I have always been drawn to image, sometimes more so than words.
An image is a more immediate conduit of the soul. Writing is more difficult for me because the material, words, are not as pure as colour. Colour is essentially honest and to find honesty with words involves intense excavation of the self.
It reminded me as well that the primary task of artists is to find and express that honesty.
That’s a tough gig. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe I’ll get there, maybe not. The effort though has made all the difference.
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