I started a face, scrambled of course. It started to have features of a bird and I continued making birds. Not so clear indeed. I did a cloud and a little piece of a plant. Then painted, a long process that lasted till the evening, with breaks of course.
I liked the way it looked, but it had some weakness when you looked at it the way it was supposed to stand.
Turned on its side, so that the right became the ground, it looked good, as if it showed a few people standing in a line. But I wanted it to look good the way I planned it. I added the warm, almost orange brown at the bottom and now it is finished. It looks like a one something, big and showing its muscles, or maybe two things, embracing, while something like a fish or a bird is escaping to the left and did not have time to get an inside color.
It is strange and hard to decipher. The feeling is of some celebration with a worry. This can be its name: Celebration with a worry.
The ground, having that “orangeness” to it, feels hot and dancing. Not stable. Maybe the dancers are trying to avoid standing in one place because it is too hot?
It feels as if the whole scene is passing quickly and will disappear soon.
So what is in it for me?
Yes, the ground is burning under my feet. There is some worry above my head. And I dance with whom? I am showing my hands’ muscles. And something escapes me. It seems like a good state to be in. See? It does not have to be something specific in order to shed light on my condition. Whatever it says, I place my name after it or before, with a colon.
It does not matter so much to me any more. In the bodies, in the ground, in the cloud, in the escaping fish and in us the onlookers, presence is there. And presence goes to unknown depths.