I switched on the telly and I switched off. A nature programme about seasons. We are so lucky to have the variety of seasons in the UK. Lying down with a blanket, warmth, comfort. I fell asleep.
I awoke. As I came round sentences formed like clouds gathering across my mind. I wrote them down. I went to bed.
Beep, Beep, BEEP. Life is back, time to get on. Now a blessed cup of tea. A laptop. Here are the words:
The Suppressionist
I do not do what I want to do,
I do not see who I want to see,
I do not go where I want to go.
Duty,
Circumstance,
Me.
If there is any power in my art this is where it comes from.
I suppress, I contain, I concentrate.
The bubble bursts.
Then,
An eruption of paint,
The ferocity of a storm,
Unleashed and directed,
Down the arm.
Through the brush and out onto canvas.
Layer upon layer,
New land is formed.
On the surface,
All is calm.
