My paintings are superficial.
How can they not be?
Shallow manipulations of paint, and brushes.
Simply colour, and material moved around on fabric.
Meaningless representations of objects that have been assembled over billions of years, by forces unimaginable, and time scales incomprehensible.
Sunshine, rain, a tree, and dirt.
And you.
Objects.
Seen in awe, painted in wonder, and mesmerised by existence.
And just paintings.
