Oranges

I usually accompany each painting with a poem I have written myself. Oranges A crisis woven from an old fabric. Human fabric weaves a web of ‘juice’. It falls one drop at a time, The only question is: where? What. Why. How. And. The. Who? It lacks what it is meant to lack. The senses. Question, matter, subject. Theme, purpose, aim, motive, cause, target. Recipient. Principle of life and of [and of] thought. Transformation. Transformation of the very earth on which we live. It falls drop after drop, after drop. And this old human fabric cannot see it! 23.03.2011