GALLERY

New Paintings

In the field, along overhanging hedgerows, through tangled stalks of milky seeding grasses and on. On past the flickers of sunlit shattered shadows and the tortoiseshell's crèche midst bramble and nettle. To a place where Carbon stick perusals through the haze of the morn, await refinement of detail and a place to reside. Silent in movement following the footfall of the once mighty Suffolk Punch and our long forgotten forebears. Who caressed sickle and scythe with stones shaped to sharpen. With a quiver full of arrows pointed delicately in sable. Parchment his bow, “the moment” his quarry. Those trusted browns and the greens, gently surround him. The tilth and the tree line harmoniously holding hands in subdued contemplation. Just waiting for the orchestration of the arrow tips' precision, as with inuring accuracy pencil meets the page. Eyes are alive with endless possibilities as momentary reflexes explode into colour. The poppy, the thistle, ragwort and loosestrife jostle for attention, inclusion and ultimate prominence. Through these eyes a reflection of all that he's seen, over a lifetime of beauty in plumage and petal. True works of passion, of vision and of heart. The shoes 'neath his feet leave no trace of the man, while the brush in his hand conjures a legacy of summer celebration ...

Dirk Minns