Thursday, September 20, 2007
Beauty.
More often then not, she would rather paint. Painting as she was feeling and feeling she was painting, filling the huge abstract spaces with colours. Lifted by the inner music, impelled by the feverish restlessness, her hand had painted the shadows, lines and shapes, colours and textures, her strokes uneven and unplanned, her agitated spirit yearning for the fluidity of dispossition, rootlessness and loneliness.
Fistful of Colours
Shereen
1:03 AM
