watercolour and ink on paper
A naked male figure with a pattern, or... It is those moments when I am let down either by someone or the hope I had in someone. The weight of that deflated hope whether it was founded or not, it matters not, feels physical yet I know it is not. It feels like a physical weight that holds me in this chair even should I struggle to get up, it feels like a physical weight to which I am surrendering. It is not. I know that I will be carrying on, I will come to another point of hope, another point of interest, another reason to get up from this chair I am seated in. But for today, for now I just bow to the weight.
Nude
The nude, so prevalent through art history, concentrated on the female form, the naked...