Up the road some new people moved onto a piece of land and cleared out some poplars. This heap of wood and debris was caught against the rising sunlight. I was intrigued by the silhouette and the warmth of the foreground. A larger version, with the source photo is below.
The photo of the painting is a bit darker than the actual painting; the foreground has that beautiful Old Holland red oxide which contrasts nicely with the green.
I do think I may do another version in a slightly higher key at some stage – I really like the composition and concept.
In his poetry anthology, The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart, Robert Bly writes:
Unless his spirit ventures toward the invisible, a man will be unable to perform the daily round with purpose. He will have little joy, only duty and rebelliousness. The deepest cause of our discontent and of our confused yearnings is the loss of Paradise. The human soul needs anchoring in something beyond itself, in that vision which is the ground of all initiations, a vision which hints that life on earth reflects ideals of perfection.
This vision is a good companion for the stunningly abstract, sensory and beautiful poem “Voyages” by Hart Crane. Here are the last three verses Bly quotes in his anthology:
And onward, as bells off San Salvador Salute the crocus lustres of the stars, In these poinsettia meadows of her tides,- Adagios of islands, O my Prodigal, Complete the dark confessions her veins spell. Mark how her turning shoulders wind the hours, And hasten while her penniless rich palms Pass superscription of bent foam and wave,- Hasten, while they are true,-sleep, death, desire, Close round one instant in one floating flower. Bind us in time, O Seasons clear, and awe. O minstrel galleons of Carib fire, Bequeath us to no earthly shore until Is answered in the vortex of our grave The seal's wide spindrift gaze toward paradise. Hart Crane, in The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart; (anthology by Robert Bly)
Thanks for stopping by!