Untitled 3. 2019
It's still in there.
I wasn't even thinking of dance, but my hands and brushes took over. Those years of painting dance in the nineteen-eighties, inspired by choreographer Jiri Kylián and his Netherlands Dance Theatre,
left an indelible impression
on my inner self.
That visceral sensation, as clouds of watercolour from my brushes seem to float across the paper, soaring into the air. My bamboo pens still jump for joy, as they create
graphic rhythms to celebrate
the use of space.
I wasn't even thinking of dance, but my hands and brushes took over. Those years of painting dance in the nineteen-eighties, inspired by choreographer Jiri Kylián and his Netherlands Dance Theatre,
left an indelible impression
on my inner self.
That visceral sensation, as clouds of watercolour from my brushes seem to float across the paper, soaring into the air. My bamboo pens still jump for joy, as they create
graphic rhythms to celebrate
the use of space.
And following my habit of sharing with you the first sketch of an idea, here's my scribble on the back of a piece of paper that happened to be lying there.
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