When I look at a pond, I see the parts first – patches of sunlight sneaking through the trees and illuminating the pond’s surface, floating leaves, scatterings of duckweed, then the larger elements of reflected trees and sky, the interlace of bare branches, the sumptuous greens of distant trees, perhaps a slight fog. Then I know it’s a pond. Constructing the painting is similar. I build layers of observations and weave them together into a composition that recalls the feel of the place where it all started. The voids and empty spaces have grown in importance. Shadows provide a place for the imagination to roam, and connect the parts. Is it an abstraction? Maybe. But that raises the question – an abstraction of what? Or who?
I was recently reading Franz Wright’s book of poems “God’s Silence,” and found a poem that resonated.
The mask was gone now, burned away
By God’s gaze
There was no
Was no he –
There was no text, only
What the words stood for;
What all things stand for.