A man with written verse, in olden times took pen, and for the people would converse, to spread the word of men. At the end of all he wrote, he made a little rhyme, for everything he wrote back then, would stand the test of time.
The poet could be understood, by people rich and poor
A travelled troubadour, sang his words, and brought them to your door.
Reciting verse, not so absurd, to linger in our minds
Between the space of spoken words, we learn between the lines.
This canvass was a Xmas present from my children and delivered on Xmas Eve to me in Campello. As the sun streamed through to my makeshift studio loft I covered the canvas in a variety of colours. I love the magic that happens when you stand back and look at the images created by the different tones as they layer over each other. I saw a musical instrument and a man’s arm. working on those two images I placed them amongst the background that emerged as fields and trees. Gradually the form appeared and I knew he was a medieval troubadour. It all seemed to fit with a Xmas theme.
I left the painting for a month before going back to define the shapes I saw in the background. I feel he is well travelled. A singing poet spreading stories of love and chivalry, from village to village.
This is a big painting and looks good without a frame.
Feel free to contact me if you would like any more information.
