In art, a little perseverance often produces a lot of wonder. On the verge of abandoning “The Muse”, a flash of inspiration rescued the draft from the bin.
The minimalist aesthetic expresses—and therefore betrays—nothing of those who adopt it. It is a non-statement, a refusal to answer painful questions about the self. The smooth monochromatic surfaces subdue a soul desperate to reveal itself, but terrified of doing so.
On this winter’s morning in the Overberg countryside of South Africa, the low peaks of the Small River Mountain range are laden with sunlit clouds; and in the gentle valleys at their feet, mists enshroud the hills.
