July 2004. 12 x 18, ink and acrylic on bristol.
$ : PI
Another bleak landscape, taking on some kind of biology this time. The smooth, red, wet bird is an organ, or blood personified, or something intangible made tangible escaping. Or something that popped directly into my head, exactly like this, as I was shelving books at work, that actually came out as I envisioned it.
Partially, an experiment in doing something intentionally smooth, instead of the chronic rough, visible paintbrush thing. Don't say it's some kind of feminine thing. Because it probably is and I don't know it.