16 October 2008. Dawn light over dark hills--one solo pine, dry-point and aquatint--Pissarro's hand.
A celebration of failure, that's what I told them. Manifestoes of ambiguity--where every known mark is questioned in turn--true meanings held topsy-turvy--all smudges and hints. The clarity of a shopping mall, those strange geometries over shining Latin faces--sudor de la bici, así es, no te puedes llegar sin estar bañado... But these explanations, they pass, along with reasons of all sorts...
And what's left, gentle blues, touches of white, warm impasto grays...
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