9 Nov 2013

Eyes see.

Eyes are.

Once I was shown a photograph of a dog and the photographer has taken all the colour out leaving just black and white with one deep, luminous brown gold eye looking beyond the enclosing frame. The eye WAS the dog, its essence, its history and emotional connection with his ‘best friend’.

My painting has had mixed reactions from an 80 odd year old lady’s dancing eyes commenting on ‘her come-to-bed eyes’. 

To a male friend giving him sidelong glances of a deep ‘unexplained’ fear.

My emotional prejudice is a feeling of a person who looks beautiful from head to foot. Someone who has the ability to look straight through me while looking at what is beyond my sight.
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