If you look through the photos, you will see a tiny photo that is close to a hundred years old. It came to me when I helped tidy my Aunty May’s house, after her death. Two people, in front of a gate, in a barren, sepia landscape. Don’t know the people. Don’t know the place. But it’s distinctive. Along with the dead tree to the right of the picture.
This lead me to surmise about the brevity of existence, the importance of memories, maybe, even the possibilities of gates. Their entrances…..who walks through. Who leaves. So, I’ve added four trees to the painting, which still revolves around time and place. Atoms, swirling in the Cosmos.