apple head, back packing man, reminded me of a painting by bacon, of a painting by van gogh, destroyed in the war. of van gogh wandering through corn or wheat fields, carrying his easel and a bag on his back. Whispering, confiding in fruit, lost.
a woman, appearing to be an old woman, but not intended to be. At first it was a young woman, a lovely young woman, but once i'd started to draw the folds of material draped over her neck, i just couldn't let go of the age or the plumpness. Staring through a camera at a blank, white space, as if projected, like a cinema screen.
pain. a man drives a gardening fork through his foot, and stares down at it while touching, rubbing himself. Not many people have noticed the rubbing part. I doubt i wanted people to notice it, but bright colours do tend to set up a precursor or a rhetoric of how something should be viewed.
i don't know why i painted her blonde. I don't know any blonde's (i just wondered "that can't be true!?" but actually it is, i can't think of any blonde's i know). But the colour seemed to fit in with the rest of the painting, the whiteness of the dress (a bride?) she was lying flat on her face at first, and there was a snowy landscape around her, with square red houses in the background, atop a hill. But this makes me feel better, her inside, the space is more manageable. and her fingers pulsing through her hair.
