Words and watercolours from my wee studio this week.
song lines, walking tracks
where we’ve been or yet to go
we find those place marks
The judge looked over his spectacles.
“Fox, you are a miserable contemptible grub” he spat.
“There is no point denying your crime – you were caught in action, knife in hand.”
“You have paint on your hands – and this is not the first time!”
“You are a serial knifer of the worse kind – Have you forgotten your grotesque unnatural Silhouette Series?
And try as you may, surely your disgusting obsession with cliff faces cannot be wiped from your warped and wicked mind.”
“Now – look at me, look at me! – today you have crawled out from whatever dark and filthy hole you call home and combined the two crimes – Silhouettes on a Cliff Face”
“Is there no end to your filth!?”
“How do you feel about this, Ant Fox my lad?”
“Are you sorry? Do you regret what you’ve done?”
(A shuffling of feet and clearing of throat).
The old bent artist stammered a reply
– “I don’t regret it yet – it’s a work in progress!”
This is one of the rarest of critters.
It’s a sold paintIng!
Incredible, but true.
I sold this one last year after exhibiting in a small rural gallery.
I liked this one – I hope it’s happy in its new home.
Oil on Canvas, 50X60 cm,
Ant Fox 2017
“Dirt Painting Haiku”
Dry Dust, Red Mud and Old Bones
Home of Tiny Things.
She – “Is this one of your paintings?”
He – “Yes it is.”
She- “It’s pretty good.”
He – “Oh, thank you.”
She- “When will it be finished?”
He – “Oh … ”
Today’s scroodling exercise …
🎨 “Oh How They Laughed When Hengist Said, ‘Someday Alice Will Look At Our Bones’ “
Pigment marker pen and watercolour on paper (A4).
Dedicated to Prof Alice Roberts, my favourite anthropologist / historian / bone-person.
I wonder how those people of old would have felt if they’d known that centuries later people would look at them in wonder and long to know more of their lives.