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Mar 8, 2006 at 11:17am
#1239689
Edited: March 8, 2006 at 11:18am
Scraped Canvas I wanted to paint not with flashy brushwork, but with painterly refinement, the wilderness of our existence, giving it a sunlit middle ground, squeezing out the paint-- cadmium yellow light indigo, burnt sienna-- in visual vibrations, mixing in the middle our elevated silence, dimming and softening with each glance, light against dark, and density in varied proportions. Yet, expunging my labor the hardening heart, with rags handy wiped out the light's ability to reach ordinary moments, leaving me with a blank, mud-colored canvas, dry to the touch.
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