Letter to Monty 13


Dear Monty,

Seeds wait to be planted and my need for attention knows no bounds. Mark our 'vicar' goes to Niger for 10 days while I go to work in Ystalyfera (jealous)

Tonight I was astonished by the HD pictures of paintings by Lucian Freud on iPlayer. The detail of the paint texture was stunning, the flesh, blood, sinew and hair, the pattern and depth of field. His paintings are intense, as was his stare. He painted bodies of flesh, souls trapped in fleshly bodies.
He saw the contradictions of our life the pleasure and pain of it. The pleasure of sex the pain of birth, we suffer in this flesh, we grow old.

The experience of life is rich, beautiful and painful. Yesterday walking on the mountains was a rich experience - the light reflecting off the water bouncing around on grasses and trees, even roads shone like silver. The cold air in our lungs, the water flowing beneath our booted feet, and Toff running free as a whippet should. Treasure for the memory when legs will no longer walk.

I want to paint the mountains like Freud could paint flesh.

Tabernacle - dwelling place - God with us.


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