THE SELF-ISOLATION RESIDENCY 22nd MARCH 2021: DAY 358

On my easel No 30. Working title: "To travel, to grow."
Oil paint on canvas, 610 x 610 mm.

A Critical Mass of Memories: (Personal) Topographies.

topography /təˈpɒɡrəfi/
GEOGRAPHY 1. the arrangement of the natural and artificial physical features of an area. "the topography of the island"
ANATOMY•BIOLOGY 2. the distribution of parts or features on the surface of or within an organ or organism.
Definitions from Oxford Languages.
 
I live inside a box inside a box inside a box inside a box inside a box inside a box. The edges are sometimes distinct but often they’re blurred. Sometimes it’s easy to feel the boundaries, be they enfolding with care or with confinement. We seek refuge from the storm, or we yearn to escape to it. Sometimes its easy to slide through the barriers, to creep through doorways or even to peer through windows. Sometimes we can even tear the walls down or watch in dismay as they crumble or dissolve.

As we pass from box to box, we are assume that each box has its own, particular, features, its own, distinct, topography. But are these distinctions quite so particular? Are there not similarities in texture, nuance and colour? Are the topographies of the microcosm and the macrocosm really so very different? By describing one can we describe them all?

To be continued...