• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 11
Image by

The Dark Room

“flesh is the reason oil paint was invented” - de Kooning

He thinks this flesh - this hide - must be
what silver was created for; the subtle
black on black of contours - muscles,
instincts - barely seen but somehow
understood from shifts in tone

those shifts he reproduces now
with varying degrees of salt and
concentration - see the sweat
upon the brow of both.

And see the rod of light he borrowed
from.... a window? in a field?
the kohl surround that tells us ‘eye’;
these contrasts swim and surface from the dark.

He stops.
It’s awe - or something like it -