Blood: What better ink to write the language of the heart? Phlegm: My brain is draining from my head: You can’t know what I feel. Bile: A black dog snarled; I dreamed of killing someone with a knife. Melancholy: I knew both sadness, and disgust in love’s untruths.
These lines are taken clumsily, though with great reverence, from Raphael Campo’s incredible piece of writing: The Four Humours. I was going to post it here in full but it is very dark indeed and I had not intended my body of work to be so dark - though I had fully intended it to be full of raw emotion.
I took the title The Humours for this series of paintings because I felt it stretched across the range of human experience as these paintings attempt to do. I am exploring the elements of nature: from air to water to earth to fire. I want to travel to the extremities seeking that magical intersection where peace resides.
I love that in our optimism the word ‘humour’ has come to be aligned with mirth. We could be so tragic but we have much to laugh about.
For Raphael Campo’s poem in full Read more…
Roadrunner is a rogue work - expect more runaways this year...