Wednesday, April 1, 2015

oil. with hands.

Sometimes, just occasionally, I get to the end of a long long day and realize that I'm imageless. That's because I didn't think to take a picture of my computer screen, or the left-over seminar cheese that was my lunch, or of the inside of my car.  By the time I noticed that there was a large orange globe of a sun in the sky, I was half way down the carpark, and all I could see were trees.  But sometimes, again, the lack of an image forces me to look about me - one of the original aims, after all, of Forms. So here's an olive oil bottle, complete with a ghostly reflection of my little pink hands.

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