
Version three has many of its own poetic charms.


Version three has many of its own poetic charms.


This is a black and white variation of the same subject as yesterday’s post but the angle is different placing the geometry of the tiles as just about a perfect foil to the free flow of light and petals; and the b/w treatment removes the sensuality of the colour which in turn seems to formalize the content as being all about feelings & grey scale aesthetics.


Vase with a rose cutting sits on floor tile in a patch of sunlight; camera snaps from very close above it. Simple setup. Complex result.

November night, November need, the bleed of light our planet’s blue and feckless flight from sun, and the meaning we ascribe for optimism’s sake.


Chronic white noise grows until the final rose yields to palate pure


Content, context, and text setting are all freshly changed up enough from last week’s blog to create a different experience. The photo is mine too so no infringement of anyone’s copyright occurs.

Aware within sleep … aware of the wrangle jangle jar of alarm …


A back-roast, many decades ago, yielded a magnificent form to which I thought I only needed to add some scratch lines and a little ink to ease the butcher’s blind and brilliantly brutal chop, and heighten tone.


Always an unseen late summer word waiting on the pull-rope slippery as a winter mitt and sock

Fillière © 2017

The watercolour is recent, June 2017.

