Power told is power lost. Yet it is everywhere now. A biological fact. An ancient implant brought into the grey folds. The primal scream that whispers through every voice. And into every ear. Anchored in every cell. It's part of every hunger, every desire.
We dare not look up for fear of what's not there. It reminds me of who I really am. No other choice and grateful for it.
This painting is ready to hang. Mounted in such a way that it stands suspended from the wall, with color reflected on the wall behind it.
Plaster, pastels, universal tint, ink, acrylic, shellac, watercolor, charcoal.