Painting in progress, and without it being predetermined, a cloud suggests itself. I orientate the work in different ways. The cloud, like the thought of it itself, subject to constant reformation. Its behaviour governed by conditions around it, near and far, of atmosphere, weather and climate. Everyone knows clouds.
I have already journeyed from the earthed region inhabited by the six persimmons, to transcendent regions of the sky. I stop a while, looking at this painting as if it were passing over me, looking back at me. The instant is now and we are fully present, each to our own, and together.
“To make myself understood and to diminish the distance between us, I called out: “I am an evening cloud too.” They stopped still, evidently taking a good look at me. Then they stretched towards me their fine, transparent, rosy wings. That is how evening clouds greet each other. They had recognized me.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Stories of God