The painting
The Candle was painted in 2016: a woman whose hair rises into magenta candle flames. She is not holding a candle — she is the candle. It has become the piece of mine I return to most.
A poem for her
She leaves the night behind her,
lights herself into a single flame.
Her hair is fire, her tears are wax —
burning was never disappearing:
it is saying brightness, once,
with the whole body.
Digital reprise
In 2019 I carried her into digital: the same flame, set against a gradient of green, violet and blue with scattered ink textures.
