Walking along the busy road the whoosh of passing cars stirs the air and diesel fumes catch in the back of my throat. I turn hurriedly off into the woods. Everything falls – the light, the temperature, my heart rate. It is hard to write about this place, this space that is chaotic, dense, awkward. A little like the inside of my own head. Perhaps that is why. In the city the movement, conversation and striking juxtapositions of buildings and people allow for a deflection of the self. Here it is me and the trees and the undergrowth and the burn. Here is a language I have not yet grasped save the odd tourist phrase – ‘It is very green’, or ‘Where is my car ?’ So I fear it might take some time of coming back, of not just seeing, but being, here in this difficult space and, in the meantime my paintings and drawings will tell their own side of the story.
Mixed media on paper – 150cm x 65cm
dominique cameron 
What precious lines there Dominique and a sense of true escapism and a reflection to change – something similar is going through my own head and mind right now with my volunteering and my own changes that are going to be happening before long as I move on – I love the shadows of light against the trees in the second drawing it is almost photographic ☺
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great work Dominique. Must be breathtaking “in the flesh.” The prose commentary is poised, balanced and laden with resonance. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person