 |
| Photo courtesy of Bernadette Longo |
When
I first went into Sickert's show, said one of the diners, I became completely
and solely an insect—all eye. I flew from colour to colour, from red to blue,
from yellow to green. Colours went spirally through my body lighting a flare as
if a rocket fell through the night and lit up greens and browns, grass and
trees, and there in the grass a white bird. Colour warmed, thrilled, chafed,
burnt, soothed, fed and finally exhausted me. For though the life of colour is
a glorious life it is a short one. Soon the eye can hold no more; it shuts
itself in sleep.
“Walter
Sickert” E6 (38)
No comments:
Post a Comment