Sunday, November 6, 2011

November


Until I started working on this image, I didn't know what was in it.  Certainly some T.S. Eliot, from Preludes perhaps.  And the intersection of organic and geometric shape.  And a handwritten language of branches and shadows and tangles.  A sanskrit of limbs and trees and night.  And of course, a simple, visual distillation of winter.
"The worlds revolve like ancient women, Gathering fuel in vacant lots."  --T.S. Eliot

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