mostly sky some sea, mostly sea some sky… seaford head tryptich, late august
Rothko in charcoal? a grey that dwells, both mournful somber and shine singing, myriad, exultant, breathe, world yearns through nuance
grey that hunkers down into green, pushes up to blue, swallow surrenders to black, else dissolves into white… ah i so love the sea
of course photos (and even more so words) flatten rather than plump, ha, cheerful preposterous midst this newsfeed flow
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but what to say here?… beyond the ‘read more’ ellipsis
hmm mbe green too?… at the festie, i went into the woods, out of the bludgeon sun, eau de bins still pong clinging to me… away from the heave of people, nourishing workshops, the good natured yabber of friends
there to stand, looking up at the mingled greens, a leaf canopy of dabbled ash, dappled beech, then to peer out across the pond, white lotus water lillies, subtle hues of water and stillness
a friend comes by, she stops, a few words, a warm tender hug… who could ask for more, here, in eternity, i am nowt but a creature of what?… strewn pond weed and love x
ha, earlier over brekkie, whilst guzzling copious croissants i was thinking, rather obviously, what a powerful human impulse it is to share… d’oh not croissants tho, that would be absurd
but specifically that which we find beautiful!… in the spirit of that, i love some of Rothkos work… usually i connect better with the solid tactile presence, the weight of sculpture… and yeah with Rothko, somedays it’s ‘so what’, more than most artists, the hang is crucial
i was lucky enough when a young, impressionable, even pretentious, student, went to the tate, the only one at the time, in pimlico… wandered into an entire room of his work!
gobsmacked. mauves, purple, magenta… profound, intense, transcendant… sat there. ooh forever in jelly fish quivering reverie
rightey ho reluctantly on with my code… tho suddenly fancy a jaunt across the channel to see monets huge water lily canvases (canvii? blooming latin). any good?
Hayley: Oh so eloquently written. So evocative and emotive. Real words to open the day as I read I look through the open door to the open sea and skyscape beyond. Daily Rothko moodscapes in my sites.I went there too at the Tate all those years ago and lost myself in the huge works that’s enveloped me and yes drew me in totally . Wrapping me in the painted blankets of sensuous and deep colour. I found it hard to leave that space. In my head now after your reminder I have returned there to sit upon that bench in meditative awe. Thank you.
thanks lovely, always powerful to surrender to a feeling, to be engulfed midst the immensity, a crowd, the sea, a painting… ha, dissolved to the merest jot of an iota xx
