Friday 21 March 2014

Three Apples

Three Apples on a Windowsill, ink on Saunders Waterford paper

Fruits like having their portrait painted. They seem to sit there and ask your forgiveness for fading. Their thought is given off with their perfumes. They come with all their scents, they speak of the fields they have left, the rain which has nourished them, the daybreaks they have seen. 
-Paul Cezanne