Three wise ones

                                                                                                                                     Three wise ones  

This was actually the first painting completed in the series and sets the tone for the rest of the works. Theres an obvious Australianess in it’s being, with savage pepper hot light burning the strangely harsh, sparse yet serene landscape. Red dust dances like flame across the scene. There’s a down to earth simplicity here. The witnesses, more like town gossips than anyone important, bring simple gifts and don’t seem to awe inspired by the whole scene. A kangaroo, the very spirit of the land, watches on as does an angel, or is it in fact the muse, a messenger from the other. There’s a quiet whisper on the breeze here as to my own sense of place  

There’s an obvious reference to the nativity in the painting of course but without the pomp and ceremony. None of that in an outback town. The three wise ones are women and why shouldn’t they be, after all who are the wise ones amongst us really. Anyway, they just heard a new baby had arrived and wanted a look, as women do. It was with this feeling that I wanted to bring forth my prophet.

  Seemingly we have always had these individuals who try to light humanity’s path, wheather they be prophets, druids, oracles, shamen, priests or any manner of the like but are they born to this path or do they just become. Are they just normal people who gain an awareness of how things should be through say nature or are they guided by the divine. Do they hear the gods? Is it just a tap on the shoulder and whisper in the ear from the muse, or indeed just the sight of a morning yawn from the world around them.   We need these illuminated ones. They are our conscience even if we don’t listen to them. They are our ground and the light on the horizon. Their message is essentially the same but foolishly we always think we know better. We twist their words, mould them to suit our ego’s until we lose the way.

  So, I’m on this treadmill chasing the prize that dangles deliciously before me because someone told me, that someone thought, that someone said, that someone wrote, that someone heard, that the prophet fortold that this should be so.  

He actually said, does anyone want an apple, theres enough for everyone



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