I sometimes wonder about when a grunt became a word. Or a scrawl turned into a written sentence. I like language and am gobsmacked by good writing. Sometimes….bad.
As for artistes, a bloody dime a dozen, prancing like performing bears with pasties over their nipples. Juggling their intended fame with longed for fortunes as sunlight bleaches their images. And their imaginations.
This splodge is called Rosetta Falls, named after the famous Rosetta Stone. This was rediscovered in 1799 by the French expedition to Egypt. The stone was carved with three languages, which allowed a clever individual named Champollion to begin to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphics. To break the code. To free the history. To regain the narrative.
Rosetta Falls has three different coloured scripts falling into it. Perhaps. Just perhaps, uniting with the water ,through turbulence and obstacles to become ONE, thereby increasing human understanding and vocabulary and communication.
BUT. On the black wall to the right of the painting, along with white striations, I have introduced a fourth language. Tiny marks. Immense impact. Zeros and Ones. Coding our DNA. A binary code, for better or worse ! After all, stones can be so painful……. Next week, Rosetta Waxing !!!
Rosetta Falls
105cm X 75cm. Acrylic and paint pens on watercolour paper.
Ron Holden. 155 Barker Street, Castlemaine. Vic. Sorry, no sandwiches !