MERGING LANGUAGES
“I turn my back on the idea
and I turn a corner
then pack my poor lunch
so that the original me
will burst out at the grand table.
Narratives are empty
and poems kill every nocturnal reader.
Goodbye, flooring,
see you after death!”
Corneliu Lungu
A portrait of the Poet in His Wisdom Years
First, there are the circumstances under which words combine into a poem. Then there are the words alone, self-subsisting, freed from the narratives that originated them. Finally, along comes a vision that somehow manages to distill those words into an even denser language.
As the artist evokes a poem by Corneliu Lungu, a portrait of the poet himself emerges from the canvas, outlined by thick, material palette knife strokes. Painted by heart, these familiar traits now speak for the poet in colours and contrasts, adding thickness and significance to his own words.
MIXED MEDIA ON JUTE
80x60
