Eye, gazelle, delicate wanderer,

drinker of horizon's fluid line.

Spendor

        These walls mirror the passage of time to the passer-by. They are in space, but spaceless, reflection, water, iridescence. They were constructed, coloured, abandoned, pierced, patched. They are barriers, borders, thresholds, permanence become permutation, permeation, demarcation between street and dwelling the publicly indifferent and the intimately mysterious: timeless. Gradually they have relinquished their impassiveness and become a storied dimension, a canvas for the intuitive eye of the painter. Overlay and underlay, intermingle, shine and recede, veil and reveal. These walls are no longer lit from without by the common light of day, they gleam warm and cool in an opalescent life of their own. 

       Shadow is the midwife of colour. This the painter celebrates by casting the veil of incorruptibility over the crumbling of things. This veil lends transparency even if doors and windows are shut or shored up. In it colour works and weaves as the deed and suffering of light. It is the veil of beauty, of reality.

Sophia Walsh

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