I used to sketch a lot in high school, i did a lot of my high school art projects during maths class… (i do not recommend this), i hardly do any sketching now but this week i just felt like playing with my graphite pencil and watercolours.
Why an eye? I’m not really sure but once i started with the pencil to paper it felt like exactly the thing i wanted to draw. I have always liked my art to hold little secrets, a word i’ve painted over, a tiny picture where no one will notice or a reference or quote with deep chocolatey meaning which parades around like harmless vanilla… So a simple eye has became an epic.
It is not my eye, it belongs to The One who is bigger than me. It reflects a complex story, my story of late perhaps. There are birds nesting and resting, some sitting in solitude some soaring. It is a story of trees bent and gnarled, old and precarious trunks interwoven with lashes. Eye lashes have an extraordinary purpose you know…
It is a solitary glistening eye, clear, unworried and unhurried by the seemingly out of place actors that live in the eyelash curtains. And it is singing a song.