Painting it today made remember a poem I wrote one year ago named Pond :
http://thewelter.blogspot.com
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We never asked what kind of place it is.
What kind of place is this?
They cut all the trees and put nothing...replace with nothing.
We never asked what kind of place it is.
We were forgotten people and wanted to ride lost in a forgotten area.
.done.
Pond.

Beyond all the moss green emptiness under clouded sky and drizzle:
beyond all the grey silence:
Pond.

pond.

Beyond the memory of logic and the senses:
Pond.

pond.

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I have painted faster lately , this work only took me 35, 40 minutes.
It makes me concerned , why is it happening? When It starts to happen with me is because I am exhausted and start to lose my patience, I clear indication I need to give a break from painting.... But not this time , I have really enjoyed to paint and take care of details.... is something else, it is getting more dynamic. I am not sure if the final result is getting better. I don't know .
I don't want that people see anything else than the painting itself when looking to it , I don't want any idea or concept related to it . Only visual impact in a not impressive form. I want to make noise now , it is different of what I have wanted last year or before.
Let's see what is going to happen with the time.
I think the last paintings have developed violence. I have been frustrated with things in my life , including myself and I've been searching for movements, not as scape but as a way to break my own limits.
As always digging for intensity in a very direct form.
digging digging digging.