Washed Trees Fluor #33


Curated by tz1PHbs82G9NPtbdfpj2nnVtxtnVyuymipXh
Jul 1, 2022 at 3:04 PM

“Our Love had heard that an immortal language never could die, although silent, it still slept somewhere amongst the birches, lost ever since the day when we went weeping from beneath the angel-guarded gates of Eden.” In Inner Purple Forest “Washed Trees Fluor”, rainbow bubbles-shaped form sprouts like fungi from a birch log. With its disconcerting conjunction of the natural and man-made, this still life recalls the way that nutrients in dead plant material are reclaimed by other living things as part of nature’s cycle of decay and rebirth. No matter how long or hard we might gaze upon these ghostly images remain the same, they are not allowed to gather too much dust, they do not lose their bloom.
“Our Love had heard that an immortal language never could die, although silent, it still slept somewhere amongst the birches, lost ever since the day when we went weeping from beneath the angel-guarded gates of Eden.” In Inner Purple Forest “Washed Trees Fluor”, rainbow bubbles-shaped form sprouts like fungi from a birch log. With its disconcerting conjunction of the natural and man-made, this still life recalls the way that nutrients in dead plant material are reclaimed by other living things as part of nature’s cycle of decay and rebirth. No matter how long or hard we might gaze upon these ghostly images remain the same, they are not allowed to gather too much dust, they do not lose their bloom.
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