The painter's drawer contains all sorts of odds and ends. Through a bent t'wards sentiment, accumulate old and faithful friends : Old paintbrushes that for painting no longer are adept but, nevertheless, for keep-sake still are kept. Once working pencils and pens that were the artist's vision's vent, now lay far towards the back - feeble and spent. The painter's drawer, between two worlds constantly at odds, must make amends, and bind these two worlds loose into a truce, allaying the vicious enmity that rends. Existences of too opposing kind held in mutual disrepute, and caught up in a metaphysical brawl. Between these two, in the painter's mind, begins a conundrum-dispute over which is real and which is really not at all. And it is the painter's drawer's task to sow these disparate worlds together as a seam : just one small nexus in the binding plexus that links the real world to the one we dream. [as one fern frond defines the rest, so one drawer defines the chest.] |