The Black Dog--watercolor
8 x 12 140# Kilimanjaro paper
Mistah Kurtz -- he dead.
A penny for the Old Guy I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
... . Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow
... .
This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot
P.S. This painting just "is," as with poetry, I think.
ReplyDeleteIt means what it means, though the trivial questions of who was Mr. Kurtz (hint, from my favorite story), and what was The Black Dog (hint: Sir Winston Churchill would know).