Last week, The Dye Guy was playing around in the studio kitchen, flicking dry dye powder over a piece of wet wool. What came out of the oven is nothing short of spectacular. Shane said he might like to frame this piece for his home and I fully agree. It’s a one-of-a-kind keeper! How would this piece hook? I'm not sure but it would be interesting to see if it's as spectacular as it stands now, but somehow I think it will never be cut into strips if Shane has his way.
As a child I would lie on my back and stare up into the clouds. That’s how I feel now, discovering something new every time I look at this masterpiece. Of course the colour speaks to me; anything blue catches my eye and this piece holds it like an outfielder’s glove. It has provoked many thoughts as I search to describe its brilliance with words, but how do I settle on one narrative?
I see A Rorschach Test, not that I’ve ever had one. The Rorschach Test is a psychological test in which subjects' perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed using psychological interpretation. If I was asked to describe what I see there would be multiple answers, from a landscape to a seascape, at first glance I even see two of our three iconic churches with a backdrop of nighttime illumination. I see a string of trees on a rivers edge, their reflections mirrored perfectly. I see the last stages of a sailor’s delight sunset with the anticipation of a sunrise to come. Sorry Freud, I don’t see anything sexual, but I would imagine there are those that might dip into the horizontal mambo if turned on its side.
I am reminded of Simon & Garfunkel’s song,
The Sound of Silence.
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk to you again,
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
and the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
There is a definitive depth to this piece of wool. It’s like looking into an abyss and having it stare back. I find it difficult to look away when there is so much to take in, I don’t want to miss a thing.
There is the magic of an Aurora Borealis to this piece; of lights dancing in the night sky.
An X-ray of our inner soul.
Ethereal - extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.
The Shroud of Turin, a heavenly image burnt on the memory of the weave.
So many things come to mind, so many more to think about……what do you see?
As a child I would lie on my back and stare up into the clouds. That’s how I feel now, discovering something new every time I look at this masterpiece. Of course the colour speaks to me; anything blue catches my eye and this piece holds it like an outfielder’s glove. It has provoked many thoughts as I search to describe its brilliance with words, but how do I settle on one narrative?
I see A Rorschach Test, not that I’ve ever had one. The Rorschach Test is a psychological test in which subjects' perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed using psychological interpretation. If I was asked to describe what I see there would be multiple answers, from a landscape to a seascape, at first glance I even see two of our three iconic churches with a backdrop of nighttime illumination. I see a string of trees on a rivers edge, their reflections mirrored perfectly. I see the last stages of a sailor’s delight sunset with the anticipation of a sunrise to come. Sorry Freud, I don’t see anything sexual, but I would imagine there are those that might dip into the horizontal mambo if turned on its side.
I am reminded of Simon & Garfunkel’s song,
The Sound of Silence.
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk to you again,
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
and the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
There is a definitive depth to this piece of wool. It’s like looking into an abyss and having it stare back. I find it difficult to look away when there is so much to take in, I don’t want to miss a thing.
There is the magic of an Aurora Borealis to this piece; of lights dancing in the night sky.
An X-ray of our inner soul.
Ethereal - extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.
The Shroud of Turin, a heavenly image burnt on the memory of the weave.
So many things come to mind, so many more to think about……what do you see?
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