I appear to still be working with the 'nature' theme. Something stirs within me; my dreams, mysterious, are leading me through a vast, endless forest, populated with curious characters, ancient sounds, and that irresistible aura of adventure. Really.
And they tend not to quit on waking.
I have been furiously busy this past week (worrying myself purple over postal deadlines to boot). Working from home has this peculiar effect on me - it seems as though the work never stops. Ever. Perhaps I will get the hang of it eventually, who knows. At the very least i have enjoyed two exquisite, hedonistic, transcendental nights of unbridled self expression out of the past seven. I cannot complain, for somehow this 'restriction' tends to render the eventual creative liberty almost holy. I was literally drunk with inspiration by the time I could actually sit down and play with my pictures again. I imagine what might happen if you locked me up for a year then released me............it may strike you as over the top, but there's no denying a fact)
So, I continued (or elaborated upon) the nature theme. The concept of returning to nature, whether symbolically (as in the discovery of our true selves) or literally, as in a surrender to the passionate wilds (to which my heart belongs).
And trees. They are a huge feature here. I am fiercely protective of them almost as much as i am of foxes. It often disturbs me, but so do most things that move me on a primitive level. A love that knows no restrictions, no bounds. And trees, they like me, too, I think. Well, they better had.
And this is the only way i know of translating such potent feelings - In pictures:
And a Rose Grows Over the Stones
Bliss is sifting through the rubble for that lost key.
OK, that wasn't entirely the point, nor was it terribly serious, but there is some truth in it. I think that i am attempting to illustrate the idea that the search for what we desire may as well be enjoyable...elevating even, an adventure. She knows, of course. She may appear blind, but this is simply my way of expressing the obvious; what she seeks in not without. The houses represent the self, although I'm sure that some of you are getting quite used to (or even bored with) my Jungian prattle by now.
I'm very fond of this image. It pleases almost as much as The Architecture of Dreams, which is possibly my all time favourite creation.
The Music Room
I love the idea of the hair becoming 'lyrical', or at least expressive of a state of mind. In this instance, we have very content hair that likes to dream. It has a penchant for sweet harmonies and sudden cessations of gravity. Poetry hair.
The Allure of Lost Lands
Something about this image moves me beyond words. It is the feeling alone that does this to me. Technically, I'm not so sure about her hair, or the horizon, yet it does not deviate remotely from the concept that inspired it. Liberation, a sense of belonging - to eternity, to the winds and the rain and the timelessness of the earth beneath your feet. The rhythm of the earth is in her blood. She is quite possibly Irish, of Erin, and not altogether mortal.
And now, a temporary break in the theme........some brand new anomalies and a portrait of 'Us':
And finally, a somewhat deranged portrait of myself and the Kitten..
A Portrait of Us
This is hilarious! We both so seriously aspire to that luscious crimson love seat.
Heavily manipulated, apart from the boy.