Invisible Lines

Kenmare Convent now Pobailscoil

Convent Afternoon 2

I like lines. Horizontal better than vertical. A painting with telephone lines in it places my work into the modern age.

Henry Rousseau’s early Parisian landscape work featured propeller planes and hot air balloons. Showing himself as a modern guy he painted what he saw: buildings, canals, boats, pylons and planes. Later of course his landscapes showed the fertile jungles of his mind, not a manmade object is in sight.

I recalled Henry last night when watching BBC. A review of David Hockney’s magnificent ‘Bigger Picture’ show was on. Only David’s nature is very much real. It is right outside the door-step. Just look, he said.


She Spent Her Afternoons on Facebook. Oil 2012


Mary Leaves a Message 

Monet created his own exquisite garden landscape to look at. He stayed, observed and depicted. Hockney drove out to a nearby wood, parked and painted. Seven years, 28 seasons.  A manmade iPad assisted, but only nature is shown.

Many of the lines connecting us can no longer be observed. Telephone lines are underground and in space now. Time, season, place is distorted. I can instantly, invisibly connect to anyone anywhere. I’d like to see wi-fi.

Deer and Data

Perhaps birds and forest animals do. My friend the beekeeper says the end is neigh because his bees can no longer cope with the invisible mobile lines.  Seasons, thoughts and prayers just may share the same band-with as Nokia.

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