The palette breathes autumn's sigh:
terracotta grounds the form in mortal clay,
while olive greens and mustard golds
cascade like vines over her skin,
veiling yet revealing the intimate terrain. Fluid strokes pour across the canvas,
acrylic rivers bleeding into one another,
edges dissolving in ecstatic blur—
no harsh lines to confine the figure,
only the suggestion of hip, breast, thigh,
emerging from abstraction's embrace. There is Eros here, quiet and primal,
the body not posed but dissolved into nature,
as if the artist whispered to pigment:
"Let her melt into the soil she came from. "Yet hints of structure linger—
a shadowed hollow for the navel,
a pale crescent echoing the moon's gaze—
reminding us this is no mere pour,
but a deliberate dance between control and chaos. In its ambiguity lies power:
one sees a woman yielding to gravity's pull,
another, a forest reclaiming its own.
Port Macquarie NSW