Painting without planning every detail,
Just letting the brush move over surfaces
Of untreated wood or clean white paper:
Following the grain of the rough cut wood,
Gliding over the smoothness of the paper
Until images form of their own accord,
Shaped by a sensitivity to the moment
And materials that come to hand.
Without planning I know when the work is finished,
Like the chord in a symphony that resolves all tensions,
Or the shadow of a frayed leaf caught in a stream
That is slowly ebbing away.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
14th. October 2022.