Monday, 30 January 2006
Grey skies in Aldeburgh, no wind, no movement, nothing. Seeing but not feeling grey, I go in search of other colours and call a friend to check the world hasn't ended. "I want to cut the sky with a knife and make it bleed" I say. "That's poetry" she says.
In the spirit of Rauschenberg's 'White Paintings', perhaps I just need to open my eyes, to look a little more closely at this grey canvas, and it will reveal glorious, infinite variations to me.
I imagine myself after a very serious but non-fatal car accident and feel much better. This may inspire an uplifting new section on my website.