The Altar

Welding, smoking, painting the marks of time maturing

From simplicity to luxury, resplendence to damage, time plays in flashback, pause, fast-forward and repeat

New and old, fast and slow, brilliant and gloomy

are the ravings that echo of a different dimension

The candles and their flame are a sacrificial ritual that crawl at the feet of time



Like a carbon copy of the Middle Ages, it has shocked the ancients and dazzled the contemporaries, black and white shadows intercrossing in space

Delicate and three-dimensional sketch strokes outline the textures impromptu

Light and shadows flicker, depth of field blur, full of changing emotion

Sumptuous golden shadows, like ghosts

Waver and float in the misty smoke

Oh, the unicorn that prances on the frontier between reality and dream

That graceful demeanor which I glimpsed, might it become a constant of the human world?



The palpable mottle is the haunting mark of devouring fire

The sober greyscale is formed exquisitely and with melancholy

Giving the senses a rich stimulus to document the decay and rebirth of material

Ceiling, floor and wall form the terse plot

The faint golden gleam is like dewdrops on a morning web



Scattered glimmering comets converse with candlelight, fueling the appropriate ambience for nostalgia

The last remaining rational existence is the night azure in the corner

The sapphire velour’s shimmer and soft touch

That luxury and mystery reminding one of the salon intimacy of the 1920’s



Not wanting to be tampered with by mainstream, not changing the will to break free of the fetters

Is this the rumination of the end of times

Or the salvation of one’s conscience?

The artist turns over his thoughts, which are as chaotic as always

Tirelessly experimenting to distill his craftsmanship

Heavy, gloomy ambience paired with compulsive arrangements

The solemn ceremony of sacrifice continues day and night