Edge

... more

by VIVA Anderson

Title

Edge

Artist

VIVA Anderson

Medium

Painting - Abstract - Edge Painting

Description

contest::::
...........................................................................................................
Contest:::::::::WINNER:::OIL PAINTERS OF AMERICA, 15/04/23.

Thank You Admin, and supporters so very much for the opportunity
to shine. I am AGLOW, :))))))))))))))) VIVA...............
...............................................................................................

EDGE, original, not Al; painting by VIVA Anderson...........
A nod to Abstract Expressionism.........BARCELONA

3rd Place Win in the JULY 2022 Special Homepage Feature Contest....Thank you
dear supporters and Admin. I am Honoured.!!:))
.
I seem to have named/loaded this painting twice, for my Images/Profile page. There is this, EDGE, and for a different reason, the other/same painting,BARCELONA abstract, for a further exploration of its importance to me, though confusing to visitors, but........they will stay here, apart. I hope you understand, dear visitor. Thank you..........VIVA


EDGE, painting created by VIVA Anderson,is my aerial view, square,abstract impressionism,textured contemporary fine art, celebrating: texture,abstract,painterly,purity of white, gold of sunlight,black of night,pink of life/blood,blue of sea, stunning abstract office art.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,


FROM A FELLOW ARTIST......Amazing SOC response,worthy of saving, Thank You, Sir.
""Oh dearest Vivianne this reminds me so much of Edge By Sylvia Plath The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga, Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent, One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty. She has folded Them back into her body as petals Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag. LF Josef.........My Reply: " Josef ! So deep your 'knowing', so fine your words sharing!so fascinating Ms.Plath....she,so over-sensitive, dark, misunderstood, except by your genius ..''..I am honoured by your finding so much in my work,Sir. But, not surprised...........
From My Archives,2015


ORIGINAL....sold.

More PLATH............(a kindred spirit).......
""Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,
And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.""

Uploaded

July 24th, 2015