He walks across the Machair
Out to the still or raging seas, on to the life of living sands
Back in his studio he lets the canvas carry his load
He works from memory
The depths of his unconscious are ravaged
Whilst his present mood
Is reflected in the surface tension of the painting
These will be original works of memory
For as Jac says
He is a professional artist
He is a painter, not a printmaker
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